And Here I Thought We Were Supposed to Be Supporting the Economy...

So the other day, my mother and I set foot into Macy's to embark on a short jaunt of post-xmas shopping. Also known as "hell." As everything was cheap, and we were armed with coupons, we thought this might be "fun."

My father drove us to Montgomery Mall, with one instruction. Find him some slippers. Namely, some "Franks." Yes, like the hot dogs. Or old men. Whichever you prefer. Armed with aforementioned coupons, we strode purposefully to the men's shoes, and found the ONLY PAIR of FRANKS in dad's size. Mom set out to argue with the clerks, for apparently, they mark UP the price, only to mark it right back down, so that you cannot use the magic holiday coupons (seriously, Macy's, what gives? You, sir, are no Hecht's). We were informed that the FRANKS were a "special buy" and NO COUPONS for you Ma'am. NO. SPECIAL BUY. Uh, whatever. Just give us the damn FRANKS so we can shop.

Mind you, the entire time, my dad is endlessly circling the parking lot or something, as it is the day after xmas, and all through the land, suburban people are fighting over cheaply made clothing at Macy's, and lo, there are no parking spots to be had.

So, off to the ladies section we march, where I try on eleventy-twelve articles of clothing, of which all are too long, as usual, as I am the torsoless-wonder. Save for one shirt. Which has NO TAG. Dag, yo. We know what this means.

My mother, never one to be daunted, rises to the occasion, and tries the nearest counter, where the clerk informs her that the item cannot be sold to us. In fact, it was accidentally returned to Macy's (nevermind that it is a brand that Macy's carries), and will be DESTROYED. We try to have them allow us to make an offer, but no dice. Sneakily, we walk away with our quarry, and try another counter. In a DIFFERENT ladies department. Again, we are told that the FOUL, EVIL SHIRT MUST BE DESTROYED. Apparently, this one shirt can singlehandedly bring down the entire Macy's empire with it's flawed return policy. Who knew? Was it made of KRYPTONITE? For crissake, was it like imbued with smallpox or something? I was a little scared of the shirt by the time we finally gave up and left WITHOUT BUYING A DAMN THING ASIDE FROM THE FREAKING FRANKS.

Now here's what I don't get. Macy's had a chance to make back some of the money they lost on this item that they mistakenly took back. Someone actually wanted this bizarrely sized teeny-tiny sized 8 that really is a size 2 shirt. So why not sell it to us? Or just "destroy" it right into our bag or something. Hell if I know what Macy's is thinking. All I know is that I really miss Hecht's. Also, riddle me this: why does the junior's department at the Montgomery Mall Macy's always smell like B.O.?