The ONLY shorts my husband will wear are from abercrombie and fitch. (y'know...the cargo/khaki shorts that seem to be on every guy all summer long). Today he went to the mall all by himself, which is a big deal in itself, but that's another story not worth telling.
He got home and showed me his purchases, then handed the shorts to me so that I can take out the drawstrings that he hates. The scent of their stupid cologne blind-sided me. Do you know that they actually pump that abercrombie and fitch shit out of misters in the ceiling all day long? Gggguuuuhhhh-ross.
I can't imagine working there. I mean, when the abercrombie and fitch store first opened here, I liked the smell. Now it's just abused. I think working there would match right up with working at McDonald's, abercrombie and fitch and smelling like grease. Or working at Tim Horton's and smelling like a bagel bakery.
Now my cat is playing in the bag. I probably won't abercrombie and fitch be able to cuddle with him tonight because he's going to be a stinkercrombie and fitch cat soon.
