Dressing Room Disillusion

I honestly detest trying on clothes. Actually, this is one of the reasons I don't like to go shopping.
I have noticed that after an hour in the mall, all the clothes start to look the same; then I get slaphappy and make fun of the intercom lady (I don't think that brainwashing the customers should be allowed).


Today, my mom and I went to a store and I found a great pair of pants. 
Now, they looked like they would fit me, but you really never can tell. So, I began preparing myself mentally for the process of trying them on. 
After an arduous trek around the store, I finally found the dressing room.
I think it was a women's dressing room. Does that matter?


At any rate, there were two little boys running rampant in the empty dressing stalls.


Did you know that the stalls don't go all the way to the floor?
Essentially, if you wanted to, you could put your head down and see all the way across into all the other stalls. I count that as an invasion of privacy. Of course, normal people don't do that. And they most certainly wouldn't think about doing that.
However, I am glad I did think of this because you never can be too careful where little boys are concerned.


Upon entering the dressing room, I heard the little voices whispering:
"Oh, no! There's a lady in here!!!"


I laughed about their little game (and that they called me a "lady") — they were obviously oblivious to the fact that I could hear everything they were saying.


Now, I was conflicted about this situation.
I realized that I had to try on the pants. I also realized that there were two little boys spying on me.


I pondered what I should do — debating whether or not I should stand on a chair and change (that idea failed because the door wasn't very high).


So, I finally decided to confront the issue.


Peeking under the dividing stall, I came face to face with my little "friends" and said hello to them. Trust me, this is the first and last time I will ever do this.


I think the little boys got the message — they scurried off in search of their mother.


The pants were a perfect fit... I couldn't help but think that I could have forgone the whole adventure altogether.
I didn't really learn anything from this whole experience except: I dislike dressing rooms more than ever.
Believe me, it was quite the trip.


Do you like dressing rooms? Am I just abnormal? I think that the later question should be rhetorical...