Archive for March, 2009

19
Mar
09

It’s the sportswear

There is no better way to have gestating plans afoot than by entering a sportswear factory outlet in Subic.

The sight of discounted sportswear revived our plan to join a short marathon, return to the badminton court or learn golf. We knew what we wanted to wear and how we wanted to look. If we were going to run, we might as well be wearing a coordinated get-up. If we were going to sweat, we could at least be wearing Dri-Fit.¬† And if we didn’t make it to the finish line, we would be walking in shoes specified for running.

So we entered the store with thoughts of golf, badminton and running a 10K warming us up for the shopping.

This is how we kicked off our sports plan: We saw something in the racks that we liked, thought of the sport activity that we could wear it for, then asked the saleslady for our size.

I found a combo of green shorts and gray tights that the saleslady said was for running and was being sold at 50% less. Appraising the shorts and tights, I asked myself if I would ever get to wear them for the purpose of their design. Who knows? I asked for my size. But after calculating the probabilities of running and sleeping in them, I returned them to the rack.

I liked the running shorts the athletically built mannequin was wearing. It was 30% less. The saleslady¬† said it was the last pair, so I said I will have it. To remove the shorts from the mannequin, the mannequin had to be lifted so the shorts could be pulled down. The saleslady, who was only the size of my thigh, couldn’t do this by herself.

All the other sales attendants were busy with the other customers like my two friends who looked to me like they were buying the entire ladies section. My friends and I were recommending shirts and pants to each other, playing up their value in our impending sports-driven life.

I offered to help the saleslady undress the mannequin. So I lifted the mannequin as the saleslady began pulling down the shorts. I bore the weight of the mannequin by cupping its smooth butt and bulgy crotch. It was a male mannequin dressed in women’s running shorts and singlet.

Removing the shorts from the shoe-wearing mannequin was neither quick nor easy. There I was, cupping the mannequin’s butt and crotch, rivulets of sweat forming on my forehead, neck and torso while the saleslady was tugging down the shorts. It was hardly a fun menage a trois.

Finally I had the shorts. I bought it without trying it on. After all the trouble I went through, it should fit me.

We left the store with several purchases, feeling good about ourselves and the future. We felt light and ready to run or play golf or badminton or maybe do all three. We were ready with our sportswear.

When do we start? Uhm, we’re still kinda busy.