Lane Bryant

Dear Lane Bryant,
Thank you for clothing me in my late teens/​early 20’s before I realized that better options existed. When I was at the age (and in the decade) where gaudy, embellished jeans and tops were all the rage, you kept me in a steady supply.
When you introduced your Right Fit line several years ago, I thought I was falling in love with you all over again, only to have you rip my heart out by pulling Yellow and Blue from the stores. Lane Bryant, I’d like you to know that us fatties sometimes have spontaneous dates or trips, and would like to be able to try on a pair of pants in-​store and walk out with them that day.
With sadness, our relationship has devolved into one that’s solely focused on my breasts. For as much as I loathe the overpriced polyester that you shill in your «Icon Collection» and the $ 40 you think someone, anyone is willing to pay for a gaudy burnout tee, Cacique bras are absolutely the best that I’ve tried. No matter how hard I try to quit you, Lane Bryant, I come running back to your embrace every time you entice me with a buy one, get one bra sale.
Tempestuously yours,
Me.

YOU ARE RUDE.
Look, I’m not expecting for my ass to be kissed when I go into a store and be treated like some kind of princess who is waited on hand and foot because frankly — that annoys me and I don’t want to be sold to.
But I used to work at two of these, in different states, and I know their company policies are NOT this lax. Let me now put together a list of things that were, and weren’t done for me and my shopping. ahem. accomplice.
DID NOT:
Greet
Find purpose of shopping trip/​recommend items
Open fitting room door
Check on while in fitting room for different sizes/​items
Try to sell me a credit card/​ask if I had any coupons
DID:
Manage to answer my question half way about where the leggings were
Tell me my total
Put my purchases in a bag.
LB has been pissing me off anyway with their riding pants and Prince tops, but this was just the final nail in the coffin that the only time I’ll be going there is if I need bras, panties or other «staples» they carry that Torrid can’t be trusted to sew without fucking it all up.