There I was: wearing horrible pants, scarfing down a chocolate covered banana, and chasing a complete stranger into Nordstrom’s.

(Note: I scoured the internet looking for a pictorial representation of the horrible-ness of these pants…but apparently there is no such thing as “horrible yoga pants” on other people.)

So how did this happen?  Well, it began with my inability to do laundry.  Because I’ve been putting-off this soul crushing chore for nearly a week, I was left with a pair of gray yoga pants/leggings/tights (really I don’t know what they’re trying to be) I’d bought in high school for theatre rehearsal.  Because I’m a freak and weighed 15 lbs more in high school, the pants are even more horrible than they were when I bought them; they’re baggy everywhere pants should not be baggy, and tight around my knees.  Since I had planned on staying on the couch rotting my brain with another SVU marathon, it wasn’t really a big deal.  But after dinner, disaster struck.

Seester: I’m bored.  Wanna go to the mall?

Me: Why?  All we do is walk around in a circle, say “this is stupid” and leave.

Seester: Well, this time we could get frozen chocolate covered bananas…then say “this is stupid” and leave.

Me: Fine.  But I’ll have to do laundry.

Seester: We don’t have time for that.  Besides, you’re all high fashion.

I was unable to protest further, having no idea what “high fashion” was.  And so we went, Seester, Heather and my horrible pants in a yellow car to the fanciest mall in our state.  It took ~1.5  Lady Gaga albums before we arrived.  After walking around in a circle to prove that the mall is stupid, we found the-fancy-chocolate-store-that-isn’t-Godiva.  We ordered and paid for our frozen banana treats with the utmost maturity, but quickly turned into giggling 8th graders when presented with them.

So, we did what any normal 20-something would do:  Stood in front of a fancy dress shop and took pictures of each other.  And that was when we saw him: A young male 20-something in a maroon shirt…staring at us in a slightly bemused way.  (i.e. trying not to laugh at our epic lameness.)  We would walk around the mall (again), eating our bananas and making (often unintentional) penis jokes before we settled down on a bench.

And then we saw him again.  He walked past, saw us (1/2 smiled!), turned around and disappeared behind a giant fake plant.  Heather (who is also recently single) and I decided that it would a be a good idea to follow this young man, because that’s what single gals do right?  So, I very suavely stood up, observed his location, squeaked in surprise, and dove back to the bench.  Heather pretended to stretch and saw he had joined two older women and appeared to be headed towards Nordstrom’s.

The three of us jumped up and began speed walking after the young man while stuffing our faces with the remainder of our frozen bananas because Nordstrom doesn’t allow food.

By the time we caught up, they were disappearing into the parking lot.  Oh well.

Oh, and to the person who found my blog via a serious website on asthma, I’m sorry.

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