ckly for one item only!” I was trying to tell the total truth, I was intimidated. So we were forced to leave. The manager practically dragged us out by our ears. I swear he touched my chest! Dirty old man. Why can’t they ever keep their hands and their wandering eyes to themselves? They treated us like we were nothing. Just three invisible beings that happened to be wearing a little less clothing than most people and also happen to have boobs. That’s probably about the only thing he saw when he was yelling at me. It had to be, I know for a fact that’s what it was. It was the same with the boy at the register. Men! I had never been treated so rudely in my life. We had only stopped in for a few minutes to pick up one thing, and just happened to be dressed “inappropriately”. Why must a man determine what kind of clothing I should be wearing? So what!? The nerve of most men!...
