gotten pretty good at eyeballing clothes for size, so the fit
probably wouldn’t be too bad.
I needn’t have worried.
It seems a lot more people shop for clothes than shop for
luggage. A lot more.
Not being able to read the signs, I couldn’t tell if there
was a sale on or if this was the normal volume of customers
the section got. Whatever the case, the place was a
madhouse. Throngs of shoppers, male and female, jostled
and clawed at each other over tables heaped with various
items of apparel. To say angry voices were raised fails to
capture the shrieks and curses which assaulted my ears as
I approached the area, but I- could make out the occasional
sounds of cloth tearing. Whether this was from items on
sale being ripped asunder by rival shoppers; or the rival
shoppers themselves being ripped asunder I could never tell
for sure. It was like watching a pileup at the Big Game,
but without teams and without breaks between plays.
“Don’t tell me you’re going into that!” Kalvin gasped.
“Without armor or artillery?”
It seemed a strange question for someone from a sup-
posedly peaceful dimension to ask, but I was busy concen-
trating on the task ahead.
“This shopping thing is already taking too long,” I said
grimly. “I’m not going to lose any more time by having
Edvik hunt us up another store . . . especially since there’s
48 Robert Asprin
no guarantee it will be any better than this one. I’m going
to wade in there, grab a couple of outfits, and be done with
it once and for all.”
Good taste and a queasy stomach at the memory prevent