Everything started on what should’ve been a beautiful March day. The type of day that makes groundhogs come out of their dens and CNN reporters talk about the dangers of global warming. Yet, as I was walking aimlessly through Cambridge, I froze (unlike the glaciers in the arctic). Above my head was a light-blue sign advertising the clothing retailer Bison Swap—buy fast fashion for double the price & half the guilt. 

Something in the store was calling to me—perhaps it was the leather manny-pack in the window (“the fanny pack for those without”), or the faint sound of Lady Gaga playing from inside. Either way, the moment I stepped in and was hit with the unmistakable fragrance of Tom Ford “F**KING FABULOUS” Eau de Parfum and weed (both sold at Sephora for $216 per oz.), I knew there was no going back. 

Walking in further, my attention was drawn to a conversation between a young woman and her gay best friend (GBF):

Young Woman (YW): I can’t believe my professor wouldn’t let me write about how the architecture of Harvard’s Red Dome Cupola is phallically-inspired!

GBF: How dare he! This is what it’s like being a radical feminist in today’s society.

YW: Exactly! He didn’t even care when I told him it was modeled after John Harvard’s “Little Johnny.”

Suddenly wanting to leave, I looked behind me to where the door had been, but it was gone, replaced by a gaggle of college students talking about their spiritual and sexual connection to Karl Marx. Thinking to myself, “This is just like Hotel California, but worse,” I approached the young women and her HH (homosexual homie): 

YW: Why couldn’t I have been a legacy student at some liberal arts school? I hate my dad! 

Me: Excuse me, how do I get out of here?

YW: Are you demanding my emotional labor?

Me: What?

YW: You’re acting as if I owe you this information. Tell me, how many men have you interrogated today? 

Me: Well, you’re first person I saw so-

YW: Exactly. I can’t believe I’ve been targeted twice today solely because of my gender!

Even more terrified and slightly offended, I began frantically searching for a way out. As the voices of the woman and her QC (queer companion) faded, they were replaced with a stout, bespectacaled man explaining why the phrase “short king” is actually a slur. Meanwhile, a high schooler in Tripp NYC jeans attempted to rip the arm off a mannequin in order to “give more representation to the amputee community.” 

Finally, I saw light. Sprinting faster than I ever thought I could, I bounded towards it. I heard a LGM (lone gay man) yell behind me, “run for it hunty,” and God knows I did.

So yes, I live to tell the tale, but what a life I lead. I shiver every time I pass by a Goodwill, and I’ll never look at the Red Dome the same again. In conclusion, online shopping is always better.