I Love My Sees-tuuur Day

With less than a week to be prepared to hit the East Coast, I really needed to get my act together today.
Sister's on the same boat, so we decided to turn today into another "I love my sister!/We are sisters!" day and spend HOURS together.
What can we do for hours... what do we NEED to do for hours? Shop.
Since she works at HnM, we kept the shopping strictly there, for her employee discount.

Here are 3 highlights from our day:

1. "Worst"
Getting out of the car, we talk about how level 5 of the Caesar's Palace parking garage ALWAYS smells like meat.
Sister says it smells like bacon, I say the smell is too disgusting and insulting to bacon, and that it's probably sausage.
D: Ah, dude! Talking about that... no matter how hard I try, I just can't like sausage.
Me: Hahaha....
D: No, I mean the food. Each time I go to Holsteins, I think I should give it a go, and maybe I'll just magically like the flavor... but no... I fucking hate those damn... what are they called... they're... like... those sausage links you know... the German ones.
Me: German sausage... ??
D: They're... I can't even say the name... something about "worst."
Me: Bratwurst?
D: Yeah! Those shits! For some reason, each time I'm drunk, we head out to Holsteins and I ALWAYS order that shit! And then when they bring me the order, I accuse them of giving me the wrong thing, and everyone else reminds me that it really IS mine, and that I always order it. I always end up angry for ordering that shit!
Me: That's what you get for drinkin'.
D: I turn fucking German when I'm drunk! But I can't even say the fucking word when I'm sober... so I don't know how THAT happens! They have so many options... and I order fucking blah-worst. So fucking disgusting.

2. Out!
The HnM Sister works at is that giant Forums Shop one. It's pretty radtastic.
I've only purchased accessories from there, and an undershirt... but who needs to try on an undershirt?
Anyway, this time around, I had to purchase a dress because I don't want to go to Princeton looking like a slutty hoodrat. So when I found a dress, I HAD to try it on first.
Sister had about three dresses to try, while I had one.
She knew the guy working the fitting rooms... and they bantered about how she "knew the drill."
Drill? What the fuck? This IS a fitting room, right?
I stood and watched this said "drill."
He walked sister to her dark fitting room, he opened both its doors at the same time, walked her in, then closed the two doors behind him.
Simple enough.
He then walked me to my room.
It was pretty, roomy... I was so busy marveling at everything, I didn't notice him walk out.
Ok, so I try on my dress, love it, then I'm ready to walk out, all in about two minutes.
I turn around and stare at the doors.
Do I push one before the other? Do I have to open them both at the same time? Wait... where do these... doors latch?
I sat there staring at the doors for about a minute, trying to figure it all out.
Push the door?
I pushed one of the doors and it wouldn't budge.
WTF?
Both?
I put a hand on each door, then pushed again.
No luck.
WHAT THE HELL?! Do I have to call the damn guy over to get out of the fucking room? What is this? Not even BeBe has this shit at their store.
I decided to text D.
Me: Um... how do I get out?! Hahahaha!
However, I had forgotten how SHITTY reception is inside dressing rooms... and the text wouldn't send.
I was irritated, I felt stupid, and I just wanted to get out of that goddamn futuristic box of doom.
I did what is second nature to me: I put some motherfucking shoulder into it.
I linebackered that shit and broke free.
Do you know how hard it is to look calm and collected in front of the "cool" H and M workers after you've broken free from captivity?
Very.
I calmly reached for my golden little garment number thingy hanging by the side of my room, and walked toward the kid... handed him my "One" and walked away... making no eye-contact.
What happens when you exit the fitting rooms? Reception returns.
I remember about my text to D. I try and stop it from sending.
Too late, I see "Sent" on my screen.
I HEAR her two seconds later.
D: HAHAHAHA!
The text ten seconds later:
YOU CAN'T GET OUT?! HAHAHAHAHA!
I text back:
nm. I broke free. hahaaaa!

I'm not stepping foot in that store EVER again.

3. Meeeeow!
Sister was telling me of her crush on one of her managers. I guess last night (it was a press party she had to work, so she was all dolled up and whatnot) he grabbed her by the waist and complimented her.
D: So I felt a hand go on my hip like this.
::D stands behind me and then grabs my side tightly::
D: and I freak out and turn around, ready to elbow a motherfucker. I see it's him and he tells me "I didn't think there could be anyone who could rock that dress. But you look beautiful in it."
(the dress is a black, long tank with a giant, white tiger in the front. All the coworkers laugh at the shirt when they have to fix the store. "Now what idiot would buy this?!" and Sister bought it to shut them up)
D: I stood there and just... my God... my crush is entering the crazy level.
Me: But I thought all your male coworkers were gay?
D: I thought he was gay! But... not after yesterday. What gay man does that?

After this conversation, we bumped into him at the store. Sister saw him from behind.
D: The manager who grabbed me yesterday is that guy with the mohawk!
MOHAWK?! This guy HAS to be cute! MUST. SEE.
Me: He's leaving! Speed up! I'm not leaving this place without seeing him!
(we pick up the pace and he seemed to hear us, because he turned around)
Guy: D! Shopping AGAIN?
D: What can I say? I love it here. What time did you leave last night?
Guy: A little after one. Girl, you were ROCKIN' that dress last night!
D: That poor little tiger no one wanted...
(This is where the manager MEOWS at her and lifts his right hand as if it's a paw and he's lashing out at her)
Guy: You looked FIERCE!
We all laugh.
Gaygaygaygaygay.
Guy: Next time don't duck out on the nightclub.

As we were leaving, sister turned around and I just smiled and talked through my teeth.
Me: ... yeah....
D: SO cute, right?
Me: So gay.
D: Aww... see... I was telling myself there WAS a chance.
Me: D, he's gay.
D: But he GRABBED me last night.
Me: D, he MEOWED at you.
D: But he wanted me to go to the club with him
Me: D, he imitated a lion while saying "fierce."
D: (sighs) He's so fine. I don't care. The crush is staying.

The guy was cute. Looked like an Indian/Puerto Rican mix. He had thick eyebrows that were nicely groomed... probably threaded. He had a nicely trimmed goatee. He was really skinny. His mohawk was tall and AWESOME. He was wearing a red flannel jacket tied at his waist. His shirt was a sleeveless shirt that could have been worn by A.C. Slater back in the Saved by the Bell days (as if it were. Since it fit this kid extremely baggy). I didn't get a glimpse of his pants. I was too busy trying to process everything else going on above his waist.
Cute guy... who could totally join Sister at Holsteins and show her how to properly down a bratwurst... without chewing... in a single try... without gaging. Must I keep going?