You walk into the H&M and it. Is. WILD. There are preteens and their parents everywhere. All of the folded clothes were now rolled up into a messy pile. You could not tell what was what. You gather yourself and head to the sale rack where most of everything has already been picked through then you see a a pair of checkered pants nearly falling off the bargain bin. You hold it up and marvel at it a bit. It was perfect and looked about your size. You take your pants and some random shirts from the top of the piles and wait in line for the fitting room.
The fitting room line was long and tedious but as soon as you get in you realize that none of your clothing worked. You did not look like you. You looked like someone trying very hard to be cool. Your mind started swirling.
What am I doing here?
Why do my eyes hurt?
Why are these clothes so fragile?
Why is the music so loud?
The music, while fun, only heightened your anxiety. You needed out but felt bad for wasting the time of the fitting room attendant. Charli XCX keeps blasting. You liked her music but this was not the time. You were panicked.
You left with a pair of cartoon socks.