Pants, bumper cars, and crazy people.
Feb. 20th, 2012 08:08 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
plutherusI decided I need new pants.
Having failed earlier to find anything I liked at Ross, today I looked up the nearest JC Penny.
After I found it, my friend called me and invited me to start practicing qigong with him. I've been meaning to exercise more (I'm starting Aikido again next month). I've been doing some on my own, but a class is always better. This one is at 6:45. Perfect time. Plus, with a friend in it, I'll be more likely to go regularly.
So, sounds good. Now I need to find sweatpants too. Since I was already planning on shopping, this is fine.
Until I get there and start looking at their selection. Clothes makers make strange assumptions about us fat people. I have a size 40 waist. Everywhere I looked, pants in sizes 30-38 come in a variety of colors, including black and dark grey, which is mostly what I was looking for.
Starting at size 40, you apparently have a choice of ugly green with diagonal stripes and hideously ugly checkered patterns of various colors. Hey, just because I'm fat doesn't mean I have no taste whatsoever.
Another thing I don't have is short stubby legs. I wear length 32 in pants. At JC Penny, you can find length 32 in every size from 30 to 38. At 40, they had lengths 22 to 29. Seriously, they had like three pairs of 42/22 pants (two stripes, one checkers), but nothing over 29? Do most people's legs get shorter when their waists grow? Or do they think that fat people just don't want pants that go all the way down to their shins?
After a lot of searching, I finally did actually find a grand total of two pairs of pants in 40/32 that were neither striped nor checkered. One was black, one was beige. I bought them both. So, if you are planning on buying size 40/32 pants for yourself, don't go to the JC Penny in Washington square because they are now out of them.
I also found two pairs of sweat pants. It's unfair actually to say I found them. When checking out, the clerk asked me if I'd found everything. I told him sure, unless he knew if there were any all-cotton sweat pants hidden somewhere. Turns out, there are. He found two passable ones to replace the polyester pair I'd previously picked up in desperation.
JC Penny doesn't sort their clothes by size, or color, or material. I'm not sure what the sorting criteria is exactly, but one pair of solid dark blue all cotton XL sweatpants was between a pair of Small, red striped nylon pants and a pair of Medium polyester blend ones in light blue. The other, exactly like it, was on another rack altogether surrounded by a bunch of Adidas brand blue sweat pants with red stripes. The funny thing there is I'd actually tried on a pair of those earlier, but whatever the hell the material was, it didn't breathe at all. I had them on for about three seconds before I could feel my legs start to overheat.
And I'm not just saying that because I work for a certain other manufacturer of athletic wear.
I was gonna buy them, just because I thought it would be funny, but it turns out they really do suck.
Oh, yes, then after all that, finally leaving getting what I needed, finally getting out of the store, I return to my car. I've got 45 minutes to get to qigong, which, according to google, is 18 minutes away. There is a large van parked beside me, completely blocking my view. I start inching out backwards, so as to give any oncoming car time to stop to let me out.
There is an oncoming car, it turns out.
Despite my strategy, it declines to stop.
I hear a loud crunching sound, and feel myself jolted violently forward. Well, crap.
Turns out I was hit by a Hyundai. For the record, my current car is a Crown Victoria. Guess who won? Yep. I've got a new scratch on my bumper. The dent in her bumper reaches her hood.
Of course, it turns out I was hit by a crazy woman. She immediately leaps out of her car, screaming at me that I'm trying to kill her. I backed into her without even looking. I must have done it on purpose. It starts getting bizarre as I'm trying to exchange insurance information. When I go back to my car as she's mid-screaming to get the insurance card she accuses me of trying to run away. This is a hit and run! I'll sue you for everything you have!
Then she refuses to give me her insurance information. "I'm not going to let you know where I live! Who knows what you'll do!"
During all this, I'm actually super calm and quiet, not because I'm actually calm but because I'm just too flabbergasted to respond. Which is kinda the same thing as keeping my cool, I guess.
She insisted on a police report, so she called them. ("I'm not going to let you call them! God only knows what you'll say!")
The police got there about half an hour later. I was sitting in my car during this time, while she stalked back and forth behind me in the rain. I got out of my car when the police officer showed up, but she told me I could sit back down out of the rain while she took the other woman's statement first, as she was most eager to give it. "He just backed out! Out of nowhere! And hit my car! I think he did it on purpose!" (At which the cop gave a look at the van that was still beside me.)
So, after she talked to her for a bit, she pointed to the car for the other driver to sit in and wait, and she came and took my statement. I told her I was inching slowly out, because I couldn't see past the van. Twice during this, the woman who hit me got out to come scream some more, and twice the officer told her to wait back in her car. The third time, she actually said, "you can either wait in your car until I'm done here, or I can cuff you and you can wait in mine." She went back, then. About a minute later, she started her car, backed up, then peeled out around us and took off.
That was about the end of it, though the cop asked me if I was planning to file a claim based on the scratch to my bumper. It was obvious from her tone that she was really hoping I would not, and I didn't. I mean, really, what damage could I claim? I told her I did want a record of it, though, in case crazy lady filed a hit and run report later or something. She agreed that crazy lady might be that crazy and gave me a case#.
And now I have yet another crazy person rear-ends my car story. I would have said the difference in this one was that it could conceivably be construed as my fault, except that the other driver must have been going about 20mph at the time of impact to cause as big a dent as she did, which is much, much too fast to be driving at night, in the rain, in a parking lot.
Having failed earlier to find anything I liked at Ross, today I looked up the nearest JC Penny.
After I found it, my friend called me and invited me to start practicing qigong with him. I've been meaning to exercise more (I'm starting Aikido again next month). I've been doing some on my own, but a class is always better. This one is at 6:45. Perfect time. Plus, with a friend in it, I'll be more likely to go regularly.
So, sounds good. Now I need to find sweatpants too. Since I was already planning on shopping, this is fine.
Until I get there and start looking at their selection. Clothes makers make strange assumptions about us fat people. I have a size 40 waist. Everywhere I looked, pants in sizes 30-38 come in a variety of colors, including black and dark grey, which is mostly what I was looking for.
Starting at size 40, you apparently have a choice of ugly green with diagonal stripes and hideously ugly checkered patterns of various colors. Hey, just because I'm fat doesn't mean I have no taste whatsoever.
Another thing I don't have is short stubby legs. I wear length 32 in pants. At JC Penny, you can find length 32 in every size from 30 to 38. At 40, they had lengths 22 to 29. Seriously, they had like three pairs of 42/22 pants (two stripes, one checkers), but nothing over 29? Do most people's legs get shorter when their waists grow? Or do they think that fat people just don't want pants that go all the way down to their shins?
After a lot of searching, I finally did actually find a grand total of two pairs of pants in 40/32 that were neither striped nor checkered. One was black, one was beige. I bought them both. So, if you are planning on buying size 40/32 pants for yourself, don't go to the JC Penny in Washington square because they are now out of them.
I also found two pairs of sweat pants. It's unfair actually to say I found them. When checking out, the clerk asked me if I'd found everything. I told him sure, unless he knew if there were any all-cotton sweat pants hidden somewhere. Turns out, there are. He found two passable ones to replace the polyester pair I'd previously picked up in desperation.
JC Penny doesn't sort their clothes by size, or color, or material. I'm not sure what the sorting criteria is exactly, but one pair of solid dark blue all cotton XL sweatpants was between a pair of Small, red striped nylon pants and a pair of Medium polyester blend ones in light blue. The other, exactly like it, was on another rack altogether surrounded by a bunch of Adidas brand blue sweat pants with red stripes. The funny thing there is I'd actually tried on a pair of those earlier, but whatever the hell the material was, it didn't breathe at all. I had them on for about three seconds before I could feel my legs start to overheat.
And I'm not just saying that because I work for a certain other manufacturer of athletic wear.
I was gonna buy them, just because I thought it would be funny, but it turns out they really do suck.
Oh, yes, then after all that, finally leaving getting what I needed, finally getting out of the store, I return to my car. I've got 45 minutes to get to qigong, which, according to google, is 18 minutes away. There is a large van parked beside me, completely blocking my view. I start inching out backwards, so as to give any oncoming car time to stop to let me out.
There is an oncoming car, it turns out.
Despite my strategy, it declines to stop.
I hear a loud crunching sound, and feel myself jolted violently forward. Well, crap.
Turns out I was hit by a Hyundai. For the record, my current car is a Crown Victoria. Guess who won? Yep. I've got a new scratch on my bumper. The dent in her bumper reaches her hood.
Of course, it turns out I was hit by a crazy woman. She immediately leaps out of her car, screaming at me that I'm trying to kill her. I backed into her without even looking. I must have done it on purpose. It starts getting bizarre as I'm trying to exchange insurance information. When I go back to my car as she's mid-screaming to get the insurance card she accuses me of trying to run away. This is a hit and run! I'll sue you for everything you have!
Then she refuses to give me her insurance information. "I'm not going to let you know where I live! Who knows what you'll do!"
During all this, I'm actually super calm and quiet, not because I'm actually calm but because I'm just too flabbergasted to respond. Which is kinda the same thing as keeping my cool, I guess.
She insisted on a police report, so she called them. ("I'm not going to let you call them! God only knows what you'll say!")
The police got there about half an hour later. I was sitting in my car during this time, while she stalked back and forth behind me in the rain. I got out of my car when the police officer showed up, but she told me I could sit back down out of the rain while she took the other woman's statement first, as she was most eager to give it. "He just backed out! Out of nowhere! And hit my car! I think he did it on purpose!" (At which the cop gave a look at the van that was still beside me.)
So, after she talked to her for a bit, she pointed to the car for the other driver to sit in and wait, and she came and took my statement. I told her I was inching slowly out, because I couldn't see past the van. Twice during this, the woman who hit me got out to come scream some more, and twice the officer told her to wait back in her car. The third time, she actually said, "you can either wait in your car until I'm done here, or I can cuff you and you can wait in mine." She went back, then. About a minute later, she started her car, backed up, then peeled out around us and took off.
That was about the end of it, though the cop asked me if I was planning to file a claim based on the scratch to my bumper. It was obvious from her tone that she was really hoping I would not, and I didn't. I mean, really, what damage could I claim? I told her I did want a record of it, though, in case crazy lady filed a hit and run report later or something. She agreed that crazy lady might be that crazy and gave me a case#.
And now I have yet another crazy person rear-ends my car story. I would have said the difference in this one was that it could conceivably be construed as my fault, except that the other driver must have been going about 20mph at the time of impact to cause as big a dent as she did, which is much, much too fast to be driving at night, in the rain, in a parking lot.
