If you have never been shopping with a fangirl, you are missing out on quite the experience.
If the fangirl isn't talking about her chosen subject, she's looking for merchandise about her chosen subject; if she falls silent too long, she's stuck in her own little world -- which revolves around her chosen subject -- while simultaneously still searching for merchandise. Then, of course, if she finds something that remotely reminds her of her chosen subject, she emits a squeal that only certain animals can hear, while rushing toward the object; whether she purchases it, or simply cuddles it for a second before putting it back on the shelf, odds are likely she'll eye-ball it as long as possible. Yes, fangirls are a crazy bunch. I can say these things matter-of-factly simply because I have spent years fangirling something or other; one learns to control it, but it's always somewhere in the back of your mind, ready to pop up when you're in the middle of real-life things, like timed exams, or when you're sitting in the warm glow of the computer screen at four o'clock in the morning.
Since I rarely go shopping, I rarely see fangirls; but, the other day, I came across one in its retail habitat. My mother and I were browsing the Christmas section of our local Target, mindlessly jabbering about who knows what pointlessness. As we made our way from the holiday stuff to the back isles, I saw this...
...and made a rather inappropriate joke along these lines...
About two seconds later, a little girl -- about eight years old -- came around the corner screaming "JUSTIN BIEBER!" over and over again. Her mother eventually got her to settle down, but she kept whispering his name in that creepy way.
"Aw, how cute," I thought to myself, "but, oh, what she's in for." Hey, no one said the fangirl road was easy, OK?
I thought nothing more of what I had just seen, and we went on our merry way.
We made a detour through the DVD section, looking for a Christmas present for my sister; it was while my mother was on the telephone, sorting out what seasons of which television show she wanted, that I saw it. I raised my arms, let off that high-pitch squeal, and shouted "RONNIE!"
Yes, I just fangirled Ronald Reagan. And I am unashamed.
The moral of the story: once a fangirl, always a fangirl.
Of course, I'm perfectly fine with that.