Hanger Hair

I went to Loehmanns tonight searching for a dress. My friends are getting married in J-actionville, Florida, so I rationalized a shopping trip out of it. During the second trek to the dressing common-room, I got a hanger stuck in my hair and had to rip a few follicles to break free. After working my way through eight dresses, I found myself in a tunic that fit so poorly that I tried it on three ways, thinking each time I had stuck my head through an armhole. I looked at the tag for an illustration and conferred with another shopper to figure it out. Thirty minutes later, I left the store, empty-handed.