Tales from Hollister

Moms Hate Hollister

Moms hate Hollister. 7 out of 10 mothers that enter Hollister with their daughter, upon entering, are filled by a feeling of controlled disgust. It is not easy to contain this feeling. Most of the mothers though don't want to embarrass their daughters so they try their darndest to keep it to themselves. However, one way or another, the feelings always escape.

Today I experienced two different versions of how moms vent their frustrations (at the employees) with the ridiculousness that is Hollister. Most of the time the moms are very polite and are in no way intending to yell at or scold the employees. It doesn't really matter though because I still never want to talk to a customer, especially a mother, unless I absolutely have to. Complaint 1 goes something along the lines of:

"It's so loud in here how can you stand it?"

How the fuck do you think I stand it? I don't. I sit there and take it like I'm in prison and the music is Big Mo, the leader of the black muslim gang and my ears are, well, my asshole. Is she expecting a legitimate answer to explain how all Hollister employees can magically stand the music? "Oh we love it, we all love emo rock A LOT, we alternate every fifteen minutes so that one of us can go to the back and just dance our fucking asses off." Or maybe I could explain that this Hollister hires only deaf kids. But I don't do either of those things because as I said before, she was at least nice about it. So I usually just smile and agree, and think those things at her, hard.

I should mention that although there are several things in Hollister that make mothers uncomfortable, the music is always the one they complain about. That's because it's the easiest and I suppose most legit complaint.

Sometimes the moms are not so nice. Maybe its been a long day, maybe this is their last store on the mall trip and they just want to leave, maybe their husbands are cheating on them. Whatever the reason these moms are are angry and opinionated (probably why the husbands are cheating on them) and they are gonna let you know how they feel (cheating reason number two, stay dumb ladies, and quiet). The loud music really sets off these moms. It's like taking a boom box on full volume and sticking it next to a hornets nest, and meanwhile all the hornets inside are on their period.

These moms are looking through clothes, angry that a shirt costs twenty dollars and waiting for the first sexy person that walks by so that they can bitch. Their complaints are angry, and make little to no sense. They sound something like this:

"It's so loud in here I can barely shop."

What!?!?!?!?! How the fuck can you not shop because of the noise? Are the sound waves so powerful that they have temporarily blinded her thus making her unable to see the clothes she is considering purchasing? What am I supposed to say?

Mom: It's so loud in here I can barely shop.
Me: Corporate makes us keep it this loud. I know it is annoying but there is nothing we can do about it. Is there anything I can help you with?
Mom: Well I want to listen to how these clothes feel, I want to listen to how these clothes look on my daughter, can you help me do that?
Me: No.
Mom: Right because it's too loud in here.
Me: No because that's impossible.

I don't know if this came across above, but when they say this nonsense, they are pissed. These moms really want to let me know that I, me personally, am an asshole for having the music this loud.

The complaints are valid. I just don't want them directed at me. I mean I can see why moms hate Hollister. I wouldn't want to walk in there with my 13 year old daughter. Imagine it, you walk in there, your 13 year old is twenty steps ahead of you excited to pick out new clothes and what happens? You're blasted by Metro Station cranking over the speakers and the first thing you see are pictures of hot models making sex faces. You proceed to the back where little girls are dancing around to the horrendously bad music and a fat girl is desperately searching through a clearance pile with tears in her eyes. Awful.

I can only imagine what Hollister will be like when I'm a father. The year will be 2059, I will still look 37 due to massive stem cell injections to cover up my scars from both World War III and the Great Zombie Uprising of 2022. At this point I'll be on my second wife and third round of children. The Euro-Chinese (who of course conquered America in 2042) have mandated that Americans breed as much as possible to help fill their armies which are now waging war against the Zombie-Russians and their Alien allies (from the Horsehead Nebula, they are called Trelblatians).

As I walk in a half naked Chinese boy on a leash shouts "Hey! Surfs up number one! Buy Sex!" The walls are plastered with pictures of dicks and pussies, all of which have a sea gull and a bar code tattooed on them. In the lounge two 11 year old kids whose genders are impossible determine are making out. When I make my way to the back I find a table display of cock sleeves with the words "Incheon Bay" stitched on them. Meanwhile Tokio Hotel's greatest hits album is blaring over the sound system. I turn back to try and find my children, enraged that such filth is being sold here. I find my daughter and her friends around a table of strap ons. Meanwhile my son runs up to me with one of the cock sleeves I saw on the table asking me to buy it for him. As I run to the register to demand to see a manager I pass a display in which one mannequin is fingering another. I eventually find a manger and tell him I didn't fend off hordes of zombies and gay Chinese soldiers to live in a country in which this kind of garbage is sold. The manager apologizes and leads me to the complaint box, which resembles a telephone booth. I step in and am immediately euthanized. My body is then pureed and sent through a tube directly to the food court, where twenty minutes later my children eat me.

The future is gonna suck balls.