Isn't Shopping There Torture Enough?

Here's the thing: I'm not exactly thrilled that in order to find a perfectly fitting outfit I need to shop at some specialized "big girl" store like Lane Bryant or Torrid. This doesn't make me happy in the least. But, whatever, it's far better than going out naked (because, trust me, no one needs to see that), so I suck it up and shop at the stores that make me want to cry. Are the stores overpriced? Yes. Are the clothes that trendy? Not necessarily. But what they do have going for them is that, more often than not, the girls helping you out are big girls, too. There is unity in that. There's comfort there. There's comraderie. So, the other day I was shopping at one of these horrible stores and was helped by a sweet little boy who plays for the other team. Now, we all know I'm the biggest fag hag on earth. There's nothing I love more than to go to karaoke or sit in a mall and make fun of people with one of my boys. But when I'm already in a store I hate and trying on overpriced clothes that make my skin crawl, I simply don't want a boy, ANY boy, helping me. Period. While we're at it, I don't want a skinny girl who's never been on a diet in her life helping me either. She sucks and I hate her guts. Give me a big girl to kiss my butt and tell me the clothes are clothes and no one gets hurt, m'kay?