Page 11 of Roped in Chaos
She looks at me again like she’s trying to decide if I’m joking.
“Okay, look, you may be used to this stuff, but clearly I’m not. I grew up in California, and not like food-growing, wine-making California. I grew up where it’s normal to see famous people and you go shopping on the regular California. Give me a bit of grace here.”
“You’re right, I’m sorry.” She looks at me again, and I nod to acknowledge she spoke, and she continues “It’s a store that has clothing, home goods stuff like some decor and canned items, plus feed and animal products.”
“Wait.” I chuckle. “You buy clothes next to chicken feed?”
“Well, you are.” She laughs.
I slowly turn back to face forward in my seat. What the fuck has my life come to, why am I doing this again? Oh right, to get away from the psychopathic murderer who is probably hunting me.
After the forever drive to the store, I get out and look around quizzically taking in my surroundings. Everyone is wearing old jeans covered in something and boots. They also all are adorned in some version of a shirt either covered with chicken sayings or cow faces.
Phillis laughs at me, I guess my face is saying more than I realized. I also notice that she’s up to the entrance door, and I’m still standing by the truck. I walk up to her, keeping my head down so people don’t see my face. Is this what the walk of shame feels like when a girl leaves a guy’s house after they bang? If that’s the case, I’m glad I’m still a virgin. This shit sucks. We walk in together, and the overwhelming smell of popcorn hits my nose.
“Oh my gosh, is there popcorn?”
Sure enough, just past the registers is a whole popcorn maker with fresh kernels being made. A big sign above it says, ‘Fresh Popcorn For Shoppers,’ and I’ve made my mind up. Every store needs to have its own popcorn machine for people to snack on while they walk around. It’s absolutely genius!
“Well,” Phillis says, “Let’s get you some, uh,” she looks down at my feet and back up to me and gives me a half-assed smile. “Decent shoes.”
We walk over to the shoe section, and it’s all leather-bound shoes. No heel or pump to be seen, unless you count the little rise on the back of these boots as a heel. She starts pulling some shoes off the rack and plopping them on the floor in front of me.
“Here,” she says, “let me go getcha a sock. Start picking some you like.”
I pick out the only pink ones I see and put them down in front of me. I sit on the little bench they provide, very unlike the plush couches I’m used to.
She comes back with a tan sheer object that feels like thin tights.
“What’s this?”
“It’s a sock.”
“No socks are white or black or even green, and they’re way thicker.”
She laughs like this is some ridiculous statement. “Well this is a free sock that is just supposed to be some barrier and help you try shoes on.”
This is not going to help at all, but whatever. I slide the so-called sock on and look at the size.
“Oh, these are a size nine. I’m a size eight. Can you find someone to fetch them from the back?”
“Girl, you did grow up with a golden spoon in your mouth. Here, you find them yourself. I’ma go grab a buggie and get the feed. Go find your size in the style you like. Look behind where you found the original ones, and find the ones that say your size. Put them on, make sure they fit, and go start looking at jeans. I’ll be there in a little.”
I do as she says and find the shoes in the right size. I slip the boots on and stand in them. I’m not sure how to make sure they fit, so I check that my toe isn’t too close to the front. I take a few steps and realize just how comfortable they are. Holy fuck, this is what I’m missing out on? They clash with the outfit, but the pink tops are the perfect girly touch.
After I figured out how to take them off, I shoved them back in the box and headed to the jeans. They’re pretty close to shorts, so I knew what size I am. I am surprised to not see any skinny jeans, just pairs that widened at the bottom, but I grab a couple of pairs nonetheless. After the jeans have been secured, I find some of the more basic T-shirts. They do indeed have chicken sayings and cows, but they are kind of cute.
I meet up with Phillis, and we check out. She pays for her stuff, and I pay for mine. I throw a bag of peppermint leaf candy in my pile because I’m a sucker for them, and we head off.
Our next stop is a big grocery store. I grimace but follow anyway. I’m getting looks everywhere, since I’m much more dressed up than anyone around here.
We walk in, and in front of us are clothes, but something I immediately notice is the bikinis. I didn’t even think about swimming, but it’s pretty hot here so I should probably grab a couple. I go for the cheaper string bikinis in black, hot pink, and blue. While walking to the food section, I also grab some plain t-shirts. If they’re going to make me work, the more shirts I can change into, the better. I don’t want to be gross all day.
* * *
After we get home, I do a try-on and come down the stairs to show Phillis my new look. Her eyes beam and she claps her hands for me. I will admit, these jeans make my ass look amazing, and the T-shirt is hugging my body, making my boobs pop and my stomach look more toned than it really is.
“You look amazing, sweetie,” she says
