Friday, February 3, 2012

Ross

If you've never shopped at the Ogden, Utah Ross, you've never really experienced O-town. It's a unique treat. Ross, for anyone who doesn't know, is a deep discount "department store". It's T.J. Maxx on ghetto steroids. It's a fun place to bargain hunt because there are so many places for your prey to hide. Only expert hunters will appreciate the challenge posed by the ghetto Ross. Maybe the dress you're looking for will be on your correct size rack of the dress section, or maybe it will be wadded up by the picture frames. Maybe the size 6 glitter heels you've wanted are on the size 6 shoe rack, or maybe they are hiding, totally camouflaged on the floor by the purses. You just never know, and that's the fun of it. It's not like shooting fish in a barrel at an organized store. At Ross, you've got to want it real bad. To some, this might sound awful, but to me it's great, because there is crazy variety and it really is inexpensive. I have to admit that I almost always find what I need there. My favorite old maternity jeans where found on a rack of trashy, teen jeans. They really are maternity jeans (they say so on the tag), and after examining the other shoppers in the store, I'd say these were put on the trashy teen rack on purpose. Where else in the world are you going to find maternity jeans that were made to catch the eye of a trendy teen mom? Random!

The Ross of O-town seems more secure than a prison. From the moment you walk in, they want you to know that you are not allowed to steal stuff. You walk through those weird metal detector things to go in and out of the store. Right by the front door, there are usually not one, but TWO men wearing vests that say something obscure like, "loss prevention specialist" or something dumb like that. These guys look like they are ready to give you a beat down if you try to remove a pair of knock-off sunglasses from the store. Their orange vests should have the words, "Security Thug, I'm watchin' you" written on them instead. Almost every piece of cheap clothing has an anti-theft tag on it. The door alarms will go ape shit if you walk through with one of those attached to your stuff. I get a kick out of their attention to theft detail. The stuff inside the building is mediocre at best. I can't even imagine that the idiots of Ogden would be willing to be prosecuted for taking ANY of it. The risk is just to high and really not worth the reward. My other question, is why would they even care if you took something? How on earth would anyone ever notice if something was missing. It's like taking a newspaper out of a hoarders house. Who would even notice it was gone? No one would miss it. Ross is so paranoid about it, that at one point the shopping carts had super tall poles attached to them so that you couldn't just fill your cart with shit and make a break for the door. Your "cart pole" would hit the top the door, stopping you cold, destroying all your chances at the haul of a lifetime.


It really makes me wonder how a really nice store functions without the obvious security detail that Ross employs. My mother has told me that Nordstrom has a lot of security people walking through the store, but Nordstrom is clever enough to have them dressed like civilian shoppers. But nordstroms doesn't have those obvious metal detector sort of devices at the doors. I have purchased items there before and they've accidentally left those anti- theft tags on the clothes and there wasn't so much as a beep when I left the store. I wish there would have been a beep, because those tags are impossible to remove from your purchase once you get home, so you're forced to drive back down there to get them taken off. But who am I kidding? I am just a cheap skate and I'm lucky that I don't mind the Ross experience. If I want to get fancy and go the classy route, I head on over to T.J. Maxx. The truth is, I don't really think it matters where you buy your clothes. When it comes down to it. If you're doing it right at all, it will be the woman wearing the outfit that really gets noticed, not the clothes.

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