Sweat-er

Now I know why they call it a "sweater". Not because you sweat in it, but because you sweat over it! With San Diego mornings and evenings getting chill and with my winter wear stuck in transit, I had no choice but to buy a sweatshirt at least. And so I went shopping.. After checking out everything sweater-y at Charlotte Russe and for a change not finding anything I liked (I was very particular that it should'nt be an overhead variety but more the zip-up style), I ended up in F-21. I was pleasantly surprised at first to see a large variety there. On closer inspection however, they were all mostly thin, and rough and crazily patterned like 21-year-olds liked I assumed. Displeased, I looked at every sweater the shop housed and finally found the perfect one. It was black, sheer and zip-up. I tried it on.. It fit well and was very very comfortable and soft. $22.50 - Not bad at all.. I took it immediately (and a trench coat which looked very flattering).

As night fell over our (Me, S and V) boisterous dinner @ Bandar and dessert @ Extraordinary desserts, I wore the new sweater. Warm and well comforted, I was very at home in it and we were playing Dumb-C while waiting to be seated and I snuggled my hands into the pockets.. or where they were a few moments ago! I glanced down and to my horror, the right pocket hung straight down. The fabulous sweater had ripped.. in 2 short hours! And past then, I couldn't think straight. I considered it a major misfortune. Yes, I had the receipt. But did I have the tag? While V and S were talking about something, my brain retraced my actions and I decided I'd ripped the tag and put it into the cover.. which meant it might still be there. And the conversation had veered to the poor-little-kid-and-the-vulture-waiting-to-eat-him photograph. As I snapped on to it, insanely unrelated as it was, I felt sorry for myself having picked the devious loser in a storeful of probables.

This afternoon, I was over at F-21, armed with the receipt and the tag (which was in the bag as I'd surmised). To my chagrin and indignation, they actually created a minor fuss about the exchange because the tag was not still attached to the garment! What was I to do? Wear every damn thing for days on the end with the tag on just to see if it tore? I explained my infallible logic to them and with a few other curious customers watching, they didn't want to risk bad publicity and quickly approved my exchange. I picked a more normal-looking replacement (only after tugging it here and there.. but of course) ;)