Life is Awkward

I hope to make a vlog about this story someday.
I just have to find time to look pretty and do my hair and edit a video,
not to mention find the ability to talk to people, even if it is simply through a laptop webcam.
ANYWAY.
This is a thrilling tale! Full of wonder, awkwardity, and strangely outspoken munchkins in glasses.
This is a tale of Wal-Mart.

My darling friend Rebecca and I took a jaunt to a local Wal-Mart.
As much as this store makes me want to take a scalding hot shower,
I simply cannot resist the low, low prices and the people who wear the most hideous pajamas.
I have the urge both to secretly giggle and to cry for America.

So.
Becc and I are snuffling around in our usual section, a.k.a the men's t-shirt and sweater department because this is where we get all of our beautiful canvases for making our own themed shirts and sweatshirts.

The subject of this evening's sweatshirt extravaganza:
SPIDER-MAN.
Who can resist Andrew Garfield's adorable, adorable face? HE IS DELIGHTFUL.
 Curse you, Emma Stone. Your hottness is just too much for any of us to compete with.

I had chosen my canvas, and Becca the great was trying to decide between two: a small men's, or a large boy's.
We decide that she should try them on, for this is always wise, you see.

There was a mirror in the boy's section, so she just throws on the sweater OVER all of the layers she was already wearing.
Suddenly, we here a child-sized cough.
A small head of blonde hair stared at us from behind a rack of boy sized t-shirts.
He glared at us, his glasses-ed eyes suspicious and judging.
It was if we had just stuffed three large containers of Ben and Jerry's under that sweatshirt and were preparing to take flight under the cover of cold winter night.
He coughed again, and adjusted those sight-giving apparatuses.
"You do realize you are in the boy's section," he asked, his voice annoyed, questioning, and a little embarrassed. It was nasal and know-it-all-y, like you would imagine in a movie.
Confused, we nodded. Were there pink things and kittens? No. Unless this nation's gender roles got suddenly swapped to the knowledge of no one except Wal-Mart, we were most definitely in the men's section.
He rolled his eyes.
"Well, I was just wondering because you are changing and stuff. And girls don't usually come in here."
We smiled, and with all the tactical sweetness of a unicorn in the field, Becca simply says:
"Oh, thank you for telling us!"
He nodded, duty done, and wandered off to find his parents.
He probably wanted the newest angry birds shirt or something.
We slunk off, defeated but somehow triumphant.
It was hilarious,
and we were glad that we are not weird.
Not that kind of weird, anyway.