It would appear that Hollister, the clothing brand that was seemingly dreamed into existence by folks who lamented the waning popularity of Von Dutch, is having auditions today for new “staff.” I know this because Hollister occupies the storefront of the building my gym is in. And when I left the gym this morning, the egress was blocked by about 30 tanned, muscled types with premeditated hair and who probably don’t know what “egress” means.

Hollister pumps its own special fragrance (called “Epic,” of course) into the three-story space it occupies. It also pervades the three floors of my gym, which is a pretty unpleasant olfactory experience all around. It smells like a combo of Obsession for Men and Zyklon B. And apparently, it acts as buck lure for douchebags.

Edited to add: Oh awesome, to top it all off, there’s a bedbug infestation there. Hi Giant Faceless Gym Corp: Prepare for my well-honed Unstoppable Customer Service Carpetbombing Technique.

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