I preface by saying I am not the slightest bit athletic. I am positively delighted my girls have an interest in taekwondo as they can reap the benefits of the exercise, focus and positive personal values it teaches (respect, courtesy, etc).
The girls have a tournament coming up tomorrow and are missing a couple of pieces of equipment. While possible to borrow these from the dojang, I decided it might be a good idea to see if I could pick any of it up locally today.
Interestingly, I am as decidedly uncomfortable entering a sports store as I would be entering a gym. It is a foreign land to me. I am out of my element. Obviously I needed assistance. Unfortunately, the assistance looked to be fresh out of high school and not particularly approachable (although that impression may have been coloured by my own fish-out-of-water complex).
Me: Excuse me, but would you happen to carry any equipment for little girls who take martial arts?
Store Guy: You mean like ballet?
Oh. My. G*d. Ballet? A martial art? Seriously?
I think my complex is cured.