What a big beat down

As of a few minutes ago, I've got a itch to scratch and I'm gonna just let it rip.  On DSW shoes in specific.  I found a great pair of flats and bought them and liked them so much, I wanted them in another color, but they did not have my size.  It seems every woman in the US wears a 6 1/2, but I digress.  I got all the UPC numbers and went on line.  I was told in the store, the closest location that had them was Ft. Worth and I'm thinking OK, so, there bound to be online.  Uh, no.  And when I called DSW to have them call Ft worth and have them drop shipped to me, well, "uh, we'll, we aren't set up for that."  I queried the gal further and was told if I wanted the shoes, I had to drive to Ft. Worth to pick them up.  Seriously.  In this day and age, when we can perform robotic surgeries and Skype people on our computers in other countries, we can't (or don't want to) drop ship shoes.  Well....allrightey then......you can just bite me.  Yeah, I shudda bought the damn shoes when I first saw them last week but nooooooo....I waited.  Man, I hate re-learning the same lesson.  What a big ole beat down.

On an unrelated topic, it finally occurred to me the other day, mid walk on the treadmill, where all the anorexic gals hang out.  You never see them out to lunch with gal pals, or shopping, because they're all at the GYM.  Duh.  In the last several days, I have seen way too many girls and women, with bones sticking through their T shirts and compression shorts, slaving away on the stair climber, elliptical, and that other never ending set of actual steps.  It's heartbreaking to watch them, but I guess Gyms have to pay the bills, too, and have to take a "none of our business" approach to clients, whether they're seriously mentally ill or not, and that's just weird to me in some ways.  If someone with Diabetes had a serious drop in blood sugar, we'd call 911.  If a guy was in there flashing people or fighting with all 12 of his multiple personalities, we'd call 911.  But we (me included), stand back and watch someone slowly commit suicide, on a stair master.  Doesn't that seem odd in some way?  Mental illness.  We've got a l-o-n-g way to go.