Friday, December 9, 2011

Hollister Poop

(Took me forever to think of that title)

I know it may be hard for you to admit it, but have you ever stepped foot in a Hollister clothing store? I’m sure many of you have seen them as they are basically the punk teen driver of the mall store community. They blast music with their windows wide open and frequently showcase half naked men. Anyway, if you’ve been in one then you most likely notice they’re extreme marketing flaws such as an eerie darkness that’s so black that you actually think you look good in the clothing until you walk out the door (On second thought, that’s more of ingenious than flawed). Also, the music is turned to a velocity that makes it impossible to ask any questions to the otherwise clueless employees while the perfume makes it incapable to emit words out of your face hole. I feel like a fucking Helen Keller when I enter that place.

Now all you Hollister employees are probably thinking to yourself: “Oh this Chiz-guy must be jealous of our extremely good looks. Dat’s why he’s hating” *commence high five*. Well although some of that may be true, I feel as though I’m entitled to such mockery because *dun dun dun* I was an employee myself *gasp*. I know, it’s hard to believe that a child such as I would be allowed into such a prestigious position as a Hollister rep, but unfortunately, it happened.

Their obsession of accurate clothes folding that borders OCD and their extremely shallow view on customers became very irritating at times, but I managed to stay employed there for a whopping 5 months despite my apparent lack of folding abilities.

Anyway, what really made this job was the increasing sense that I did not belong there. Mothers would come up to me wielding jeans and pressing them against my temple would ask “do you think these would look good on my 14 year old daughter!?” Since it was (I think) illegal for a 22 year old man to answer that, I would cleverly answer there question with another question: “I don’t know. What does she like?” Genius, I know.

Well, I forgot why I started writing about this subject. I think it was pretty much my lack of ideas today due to my severe sleep deprivation. Anyway, long story short, they didn’t exactly fire me. They kind of just pretended they didn’t recognize me when I transferred back to my original store.

On top of all that, they promote bestiality:

P.S. I know I’m a hypocrite. If anything, I’m more judgmental than these Hollister employees. Also, not all of them were really all that bad. I just like being a dick I guess. I don’t know.