DSW SHOE WAREHOUSE SUCKS. AND ALSO, THEY HATE BABIES AND KITTENS AND MAYBE EVEN FREEDOM

I have a KILLER post about Dr. John that I have been working on, but it will have to wait because there is an EMERGENCY situation going on. I know what you're thinking-"Jenn, why would you tease me by mentioning that you are withholding a post about the greatest forgotten 70's rock phenom of all time?", and I'm sorry that I did it, but now you have a reason to go on living, knowing that someday soon it will be both the right place and right time for you to see the winning entry.

Anyway, on to the horrific tale.

I'll admit, it took me a while to get on the DSW Shoe Warehouse bandwagon. For one, I dislike any kind of clothing vendor that is in a warehouse of any kind. It's just a policy I have; if you're buying things from a warehouse, you are either purchasing illegal goods or maybe you've convinced yourself that your family of four simply MUST have eight pounds of Cheerios and a 72-pack of canned peaches and are therefore at Costco. I just don't like the idea of buying shoes from a warehouse. It seems seedy and gross and cheap and weird. But it's not nearly as bad as "Dress Barn". Do not EVEN get me started on that atrocity (if you're shopping there for larger sizes, then the cow jokes just write themselves, people). But I also don't like the idea of having to reach over a group of dainty-footed women to grab the 11.5's/12's on the bottom of a pile of shoes. At least at Nordstrom's I can demurely mumble to the salesman "um, what's the largest size this comes in?" and when he tells me I can either respond with "perfect, can I try that please?" or, if the largest is 10, say something like "well, I was just taking a survey, I certainly don't have feet so large that shoes sometimes don't come in my size" and then laugh nervously.

But I overcame my doubts and over time began to embrace the 'House. Until last week, when I went to the one in Springfield with my mom because I needed sneakers.

After looking through the entire sneaker section and not being able to find a SINGLE shoe above a 10, I began to feel nauseous.

"OH.MY. GOD," I said to my mother in a scared, hushed voice. "They've stopped carrying 11's!"

"Don't be ridiculous," my ALWAYS SYMPATHETIC mother responded.

In a panic I rushed through the aisles, looking at other styles of shoes.

You guys, there were THREE shoes above a 10 in the entire store. Plus the once-huge "over 11" section of sale shoes? Now one measly, pathetic shelf.

I rushed over to a cashier and demanded that she tell me what happened. I think I scared her a little bit. It might have been the red face complete with veins popping out of the forehead and actual steam clouds puffing out of my ears. Or the idea that I might kill her with my gigantic feet. Either way, she averted her eyes and laughed nervously, telling me some BULLSHIT story about shipments not being in or some crap.

"She's lying!" I hissed to my mother.

"Jennifer!" she responded as she slid a pair of size 9 sandals on the counter.

"I'm telling you, they aren't carrying larger sizes anymore. This is the single worst thing that has ever happened in the history of the world."

" Why are you being so dramatic?" she asked, in a supportive, nurturing way.

"BECAUSE YOU DON'T UNDERSTAND (note: I've found this to be the most effective and adult response to any argument with my parents) YOU WEAR NORMAL SIZE SHOES AND IT'S NOT HARD FOR YOU AND OH MY GOD I AM GOING TO HAVE TO TIE CARDBOARD TO MY FEET OR JUST NOT WALK ANYWHERE...EVER."

I'm not really sure what happened after this, but there might have been some Klonopin involved that evening. So later in the week, I was in Fair Lakes and decided to try another store, thinking that surely it was just some kind of fluke and THEY would certainly have more 11's and then all would be right with the world and I would skip happily out of there with some cute shoes and there would be rainbows and birds chirping and maybe a kicky little theme song.

It was not to be.

Jenn: Um, you guys are stopping stocking 11's and up, aren't you?
Manager: (smirking, upping the possibility that I would attempt to smack it off his face by 90%) Well, officially, I can tell you that we stock one size 11 in many styles, but...

So, there you have it. I think everyone should boycott that ridiculous store for two reasons.
1. They lie and will not just admit that they SUCK and are size-ist or that they SUCK.
2. JUST BECAUSE I HAVE GIGANTIC FEET DOESN'T MEAN THAT I DON'T DESERVE/NEED SHOES.

I have to go now. I'm super sad. Like this is worse than any break-up ever. Because with this break-up, I CAN'T EVEN GO SHOE SHOPPING TO CONSOLE ME.

Oh, the irony. It burns.