Another life experience

American Apparel had a crazy "Rummage Sale" this past weekend, here in the city.
I saw an ad for the sale somewhere on the internet, and then a couple days later, saw it on multiple other sites and then found out that there was a facebook page set up for the sale. This should have been my first clue that things would not end well.
I've never bought anything at American Apparel before. When it first came out in the city, the prices were higher than they are now, and the overstuffed racks of gold shiny leggings and neon fake-dancewear made me cringe. At the time, the word "hipster" was not on my radar. I was confused and aghast at what they were selling. Sadly, my sentiments have not changed since then.
The thing is, I have been looking for a good pair of leggings for quite some time now. I am very particular about the leggings that I'm looking for and so far, American Apparel is the only non-luxe boutique that offers the product I want. Yeah, you'd think that buying a pair of leggings would be easy, but trust me, it's not.
So, I figure that this sale, is the perfect chance to snap up some leggings and maybe some tights at a good price. I should have known that it wouldn't be so simple.
My strategy is to go on the first day of the sale, in the morning while people are at work or school. I showed up and am vaguely surprised to see a looooong line snaking around the corner of the nearest intersection. Turns out, tween and teens will skip school for these kinds of sales. Darn it. I join the end of the line and go through my plans for the day. No problem - I can just delay everything I had planned by an hour. An hour in, I've moved about 10 meters forward and thanks to the girls behind me, am reminded that teenagers have a skewed sense of personal space. This, however, may be a smart strategy to battle the cold weather. None of them seem to be wearing late-fall/winter coats and their leggings would not meet my criteria for purchase. I marvel at the kids strutting down the street without coats on and the girls wearing their hiked up kilts and ankle socks. I'm too lazy to bring out my reading, but I probably wouldn't have been able to concentrate on my articles with the stories of so-and-so cheating on her best friend's boyfriend and so-and-so thinks she's so cool, being screamed in my ear. Oh my.
Every so often, I see someone walk by with a large shopper bag filled with purchases from the sale. I guess there's good stuff to be bought. A flyer is passed out with the pricelist of items for sale. It's very enticing.
Starbucks, McDonalds and other local vendors must be so happy this sale is happening in their neighbourhood. Hipsters will spend lots of money on lattes and food.
At one and a half hours into my slow death, I've only moved half a block, but the girls behind me have started listening to their i-pods and I get a much needed break from their rambling and ranting. The sun comes out and warms my body (thank goodness I wear so much black), although by this point my feet have gone numb and the short stint of sun isn't long enough to bring them back to life.
I make a couple calls for moral support, and just as I think it's not worth my time nor energy (realistically, I'm only looking to buy 2 or 3 items) to stand in this line, we move forward. 2 meters.
I overhear a shopper tell a fellow line-waiter that it's not worth it. Items are not being replenished as advertised (it's just stuff that people don't want after throwing them on the floor or in the incorrect bin that's getting put back on the racks) and everything has rips and tears in it. Okay, I ready to bail, until I look down and see the massive shopper of clothes that she's just purchased. Huh?
I'm starting to feel a little bit hysterical from the cold and waiting and realize that I really have to leave. The line is not moving fast enough and I do have things that need to get done that day. After two hours of waiting in line, I've moved about one block (half a block to go) and am actually disappointed with myself that after all of that time, I have nothing to show for it. I feel like a quitter. I had gone so far, just to bail.
As I walk away from the line (I'm sure to the cheers of the girlies behind me), I can't feel my feet and am astounded that I can walk on stumps. I'm shaking from the cold and happy to sit down in the warmth of the streetcar. My muscles feel sore from tensing in the cold for two hours and I start uncontrollably twitching as my body returns to a normal temperature.

By the next morning, I've convinced myself that it wasn't meant to be and that I'm probably better off not getting into the sale. And then I get an e-mail from someone who's waiting in line. I waver (as always) and soon find myself in line beside her. I don't stay for very long, as I have plans that I do not want to tamper with (and the line is not moving any faster than it did the day prior), but a new development is that the organizers are now giving timed entry tickets so that potential shoppers do not have to wait around and can go and come back at a later appointed time. Just before leaving at 10.30am, I hear that they are giving tickets for a 4pm entry. I'm happy to leave, but wish my compatriot luck.
Yet again, I thought I was done with the whole gong-show, until later that day, I get an e-mail saying that there is a 6pm ticket with my name on it, if I want it. Like a sucker, I bite. I show up that evening, join a shorter line, and wait about 20 minutes to get in.
Once inside, we begrudgingly join yet another line (mandatory coat/bag check) and wait another half an hour, at least, this time in the warmth. In the distance, I see chaos.
It brings me back to my Club Monaco warehouse sales of my childhood where people are going crazy. Clothes are everywhere, and there's not much that is worth buying. I figure I'll be out of the there pretty quickly. I scan the racks quickly (definitely not a rummager - hmmm, why did I think I would enjoy this sale, again?) and end up with a couple items, mostly picked up off the floor and hidden underneath the overflowing racks. Strange, everything seems to have a rip in it, except for items sizes XL and above. So we're buying defective merchandise. Oh, great. I am actually tempted to get two different dresses. One would need altering and would only be worn to the beach, and the other has at least 2 rips that would need to be stitched up and I don't really know how well it fits.
I leave with nothing.

The kicker, I have developed a cold from Friday's antics. I hate being sick.

Now that the sale's over, for some reason they've decided to have a crazy sale on their online store. Clearly they have extra stock left from the sale. Apparently the webcode promo works on their regular stocked merchandise too. It's only for a couple days, so I'm actually going into the store today to try out sizes and see if I actually want to take the plunge. I'm wondering if the past couple days were supposed to be a sign that I should never engage in anything American Apparel.