WTF, Really?

Shelves must be made out of steel in the clothing stores of France. Yesterday at god damn A&F, a French senior citizen decided it would be ideal to scale several shelves of clothing to reach the very top. These shelves are fairly thick pieces of wood held up by two, small, cylindrical pieces of metal on each side. So of course, as soon as this woman distributes her weight on the first shelf, the whole thing collapses. "BANG!" Oh shit! There's a shoot out in the fitting room! But, no. I turn around to find clothes on the floor, along with the bottom shelf. I rush over to the idiotic scene, "Can I help you?" The old woman finally gets down. "XXL?" I hastily check for the size. "No XXL, sorry." She turns to what seems to be her family and they proceed to bark at each other in some french gibberish. I stood there and watched them intently, hoping they would exit at any moment. The moment finally came. A younger woman from the group turned as they marched away, "Merci Beaucoup." I smile, then immediately turn around in-order to roll my eyes and attend to the mess on the floor. These foreigners are out of control. Maybe it's the pounding music or the constant aroma of "Fierce" cologne being pumped through the ventilation. They're like clamorous baboons trying to find shelter. A&F doesn't pay me enough.