It's like Kid Nation, but crueller and I was there last night: Noisy, crowded, dark but flashing-bright: hell it is for the middle-aged or the autistic and for an autist of a certain age it is very torture.
Too loud to hear yourself think; too dark to tell the girls' clothes from the boys, the assistants from the shoppers, or toilets from the changing rooms: it's also a maze, with a secret cash desk and TWICE I heard people asking for help finding the exit. In fact there's only one thing you can imagine that's worse than browsing at A&F, and that's ... ooh . . say.....being after a certain *specific* thing that you have seen on the website, of which the staff are completely ignorant, and not, when it comes right, brutally down to it, not being quite sure what size your daughter is.
"Sir, I have been thinking about that t-shirt you're after: might it, in fact, be girls shirt? Because, if it is, I think you're looking in the wrong place!"
"Well, do you know: it just possibly might be"
Reader, I survived, and what doesn't kill you makes you stronger, yes?
Daughter, mine, it was worth it :-)
And I didn't have any trouble with my credit card