Every man deserves a good wardrobe.
When I heard that a new, higher end clothing boutique was opening on the capsuleer only levels of every station galaxy wide, I was excited, though skeptical, about this ambitious undertaking from Noble Exchange (or was it Noble Appliances? I’ve never been good at names).
I have to admit, as I slowly walked through their store, it was definitely tailored to appeal to the higher end niche market of the capsuleer. As I began running my hands over the various clothing articles though, I didn’t really get a feel for a quality any different than what I was currently wearing, namely a Quafe TShirt and a pair of bargain pants.
I found a nice pair of commando slacks in my size, and immediately the salesperson asked me if I’d like to try them on, to preview the fashion experience that awaited me.
“Sure, why the hell not?” I replied. I could judge from the reaction on his face that profanity was beneath him.
I have to admit, the pants looked good, though they were a little snug on the boys. I called out from the change room, “Could you pass me a 48 large in that officer’s jacket please? I’d like to ‘preview’ it.”
“I’m sorry, sir, but we don’t allow our guests to try on that particular article.” was the reply.
“Seriously? How’s that?” I asked, admiring my ass in the commando pants.
“I’m sure you can appreciate the hygenic need, sir. We wouldn’t want just anyone perspiring in our garments that others may potentially purchase.” The skinny prick had a very smug voice.
“Really? Cause right now my balls are sweating up a storm in these pants I’ve got on.” I said, opening the door to speak face to face with the clerk as I blatantly adjusted myself, much to his horror and dismay.
“I dunno. They look alright.” I narrated to nobody in particular. I looked at the price tag. It had to be a misprint. There was no way anyone in their right mind would charge that for an entire closet full of clothes much less one pair of pants.
“Is this price accurate?” I asked incredulously.
“Yes sir.” the sales associate smiled with pride.
“And you realize I could buy five Sleipnir command ships for the price of these pants right? And I’m talking T2/faction fit here, not standard fit.”
His eyes glazed over, and I knew immediately that this company had no real understanding of its target demographic.
I took the pants off right then and there, grabbing my own pants from the nearby changing room. The salesperson was horrified to discover I wasn’t the type to wear underwear.
“Enjoy your store.” I said, walking out in a mild rage.
Forty five minutes later I left the lower level public promenade, two large shopping bags in hand. I had found a great deal on muscle tees, 5 for 0.01 ISK, and picked up three pairs of pants. At the prices I paid, they might as well have been free.
It’s not that I couldn’t afford Noble Exchange. It was more of a question of Why would I want to?