Back To School Woes

Next week my son goes back to school. This weekend is the dreaded back to school clothes shopping trip. He must go with me this time as I have no idea what size he wears now. Over the summer he has become a tall, thin stranger that eats massive amounts and questions my coolness in picking out the new must have fashions of middle school.

I remember last year’s trip with frightening clarity…..

I am standing outside the entrance to what can only be a cave. The interior is dark and I see indistinct shapes moving back and forth. The rhythm of an unfamiliar beat blares at ear piecing levels. I swallow back my fear, knowing this is where my son would want me to go.
I step inside.

I instantly stumble and catch myself on a nearby table heaped with piles of material. They all look the same in the dimness only briefly illuminated by strobe lighting that must surely be designed to blind trespassers.
I linger near the front.

I am eyed suspiciously by the gatekeepers; they know I do not belong. Their floppy hair and casually elegant clothing are a mark of their power and superiority. I glance down with shame at my dusty sandals and faded Capri pants.
I hurry to the back of the store.

The smell overwhelms me and I fight against my gag reflex. My nose burns and my eyes water as I rifle through the racks. The shapes laugh loudly and float around me. I finally grab a few pieces and run to the long shape in the corner. The small troll like figure behind asks me a question as she attempts to spray me with a mind numbing scent from a small bottle she holds protectively in front of her.

“Excuse me?” I say loudly.
She laughs and repeats. Still unsure of what was said, I shake my head and throw my credit card at her. Her hands move quickly in the dark and my card and bagged purchases are handed back in mere seconds. I stumble toward the light.

I make it and breathe deeply of the fresh air on the outside. I look back at the cave that I so narrowly escaped from. I make a note of the strange name so I can warn others of its dangers.

Hollister.

I must go again to this dreaded place….but I intend to send in my son while I wait patiently outside. Could it be that I’m not cool anymore?........nah.