Aaron Vs. the Veterans Day Sale

I complain a lot about work. But there's a great thing about working at a bank: federal holidays.

So I went to the mall today with Nicole and my temporary roommate, Gordon. Gordon's sister has a birthday in a few days, so he wanted to get some nice American clothes to take back to Scotland for her. While at the mall, I did something that I haven't done since college. I bought clothing from a mall based store.

I stopped shopping in malls because the clothes are far too expensive. I've never in my life shopped in an Abercrombie or an Aeropostale. But back in the day, I bought stuff from American Eagle all the time. But they became wicked expensive, just like the other two stores I just mentioned. Maybe they were always wicked expensive, but before I maxed out all those college credit cards money just didn't seem to matter.

American Eagle is where I bought my new clothing. I found a decent shirt back on the sale rack. 30% off a $14.95 shirt translates to a pretty good deal, especially at a store like that.

While we were standing inside the local Aeropostale, waiting for Gordon to pay for his 2 for $20 t-shirts, Nicole mentioned that we were getting too old to shop in places like that. I quietly agreed, but out loud I claimed that I was not getting too old. Some of us have not yet hit 30.

But it did get me thinking. I am, of course, too old to dress like the kids these days. The clothes you'd typically find in stores like that are specifically aimed at teenagers with trust funds and college students with too many credit cards who put gel in their hair and bathe in cologne.

But someday, I'll be 60 years old. And when that day comes, I'm going on a shopping spree. I'll start buying the latest fashions from Hollister and Abercrombie & Fitch and the Gap or whatever store the kids going to in 30 years. Then I won't be the creepy old guy in the neighborhood with a dozen cats who never cuts his grass. I'll be the hip old guy that wears awesome clothes.

Also, the good people at Kohl's sent my mother a $10 gift card in the mail. But it came to my apartment, so I used it for myself. Got a new pair of jeans. So, Mom, if you're reading this, sorry I took your card.