The Wee Corner

Here i was, all geared for a great shopping experience since arriving back in Singapore for a much needed R&R trip and boy did it start off “great”. Jo and I had decided that it would be nice to just hit the shops in the morning to do some retail therapy. This so called retail therapy was drastically cut short once i decided that i would buy a couple more new pairs of swimming trunks in preparation for our trip to Club Med where im expecting to be submerged in a pool most of the time there.

As luck would have it, i walked pass one of the stores i frequent relatively often when im back, which sells all things to do with swimming. Singaporeans it seems, appears to be one of the few populations left in this world that dont shy away from wearing Speedos hence there are plenty of shops selling this stuff. Kiwis on the other hand, find them repulsive. Probably cause most cant fit into them…..or so i thought…

I walked into the store and there stood a sales rep which greeted me like all sales reps do as you walk into a shop. Being the guy shopper that i was, i went straight to the isle with what i wanted, picked the colours that i wanted and proceeded to request for the size that was the exact same size of the current pairs of jeans that i own, which was a size 34. She took one look at me, didnt so much as smile and replied with that direct ‘please-dont-f***-with-me’ look and replied “Oh you look like you need a 36!” Dumb founded by her response i replied and said “Ermm no a 34 as that’s what im currently wearing”. Her facial expression then changed, looking perhaps a bit surprised and then attempted an intellectual response saying ” Oh….that’s because swimming trunks are built to be worn at the hips.”

My thoughts: ” And Jeans are not?????!!! Last i checked, i knew very people with butts higher than their hips that could support jeans in other ways apart from the hips. ”

Demoralised but still determine to make a purchase at this point, i took a size 34 and a 36 to the fitting room in hope to prove her wrong. Alas, that was not to be. The 34 showed me where that ‘muffin’ had been hiding all this time whereas the 36 concealed it nicely like a dark coloured Glad Wrap.

I then humbly took the size 36 to the cashiers, made my purchase, thanked the sales tyrant and cried on Jo’s shoulder for the rest of the day.