>be me
>out of shirts
>decide to hit the mall like a functioning adult
>walk into store
>there’s no shirts
>no pants
>just soup
>literal f**king soup
>look up
>“SOUP” in giant block letters
>brain.exe has stopped working
>walk up to employee
>“why are you selling soup in a clothing store?”
>he just says “sir this is a soup store”
>rage builds
>I am shirtless, confused, and now surrounded by bisque
>yell “I NEED CLOTHES, NOT SOUP”
>lady with ladle gives me the side eye
>some kid knocks over a shelf of chowder
>I slip and fall into minestrone
>security escorts me out covered in soup like some kind of war crime
>still no shirt
>mfw I have soup
>but no drip