A-shopping we will go

I am not a shopper.  I must have gotten lost (happens to me all the time) on my way to the  line where they were handing out the shopping gene.  I have never enjoyed shopping.  On the rare occasions that I am forced to shop, I don’t want anyone coming up to me asking to help.  I just want everyone to get out of my way and let me make my selection, so I can get out of the store quickly.


My first real  job (when I was 16)  was as a sales assistant in the women’s wear department at J.  J. Newberry.  My friend’s mother was the manager of the department, and she wasn’t too fond of me anyway. She thought I was a mouthy little hooligan, just like her daughter (there may have been some very good reasons she felt that way).  My job was to straighten the displays, clean out the changing rooms and put the clothing back in its proper place.  But my main function was to accost anyone and everyone who even looked as if they might set foot in the department and cling like ivy, insisting I be allowed to help with their selections.  I was, of course, supposed to do this with a smile on my face and an extremely pleasant demeanor.  Okay, so now we have a problem – actually several problems.  As I hate salespeople bugging me when I’m trying to shop, that means I am not likely to feel comfortable doing it myself.  Also, I suffer social anxiety to no small degree, I am not a smiler and I seldom have a pleasant demeanor never mind an extremely pleasant one.  My career in sales lasted one week, at which time it was strongly suggested I might do better in another line of work.  Amen to that!!!  I mean think about it.  People who work in retail put in some ridiculous hours and never get holidays or weekends off.


When I do shop, I always make a list before I leave the house.  If I were going to the grocery store, I would sit and mentally walk up and down each aisle (it only takes several hundred trips to the same store for me to know it like the back of my hand).  When I arrive at the store, I follow the exact same path as I took in my head.  I select only the items on my list.  I do not notice anything on the displays.  If it's not on my list, I don’t see it.  It was years before I knew what a blue-light special was because I never pay attention to the announcements and I never walked directly into the blinking blue light pole, therefore I never saw it.


I don’t mind shopping so much on the internet.  I know, everyone is terrified about cyber-thieves stealing credit card information, etc., etc., etc.  It’s sad, but it does happen.  Internet sites go to a lot of trouble to protect credit card information, but there will always be some bozo who is smart enough to break through security.  Of course, there are also dishonest servers who clone your credit card when you pay your check at a restaurant, or convenience store, or anywhere else you might use your card.  I think the internet is about as safe as most other places because there are crooks everywhere.  Anyway, I use PayPal for most of my internet purchases which means I don’t have to enter a credit card at each site.  The main reason I don’t mind shopping on the internet is because NO ONE BOTHERS ME.  I can take as long as I like without someone coming up and saying “Are you sure I can’t help you find what you’re looking for?”  I can compare prices at my leisure.  I can sit in the comfort of my own home, make my selections without any intervention, and have it delivered right to my front door.  The UPS man and I are great friends.


I went shopping with my friend Ann today.  In one of my earlier posts I mentioned that we often have dinner at Tim and Ann’s home.  Though their home and their appliances are newer and the area is more spacious, the supply of kitchen gadgets at the Webb household is sorely lacking (according to Bud and Harold).  Bud decided to provide Ann with a list of some of the things she needed to get Tim for Christmas so he would have a better supply of gadgets when the guys are over there cooking.  Bud, being the considerate person he is, went so far as to search out these items on the internet and print pictures and descriptions for Ann.  He also informed her of a sale being held at a local store called The Extra Ingredient, where all of these items might be purchased.  So today, printed web pages in hand, Ann and Carla went off to The Extra Ingredient in search of new implements for Tim’s kitchen.  I dare not list the items here (there is an extremely remote chance Tim might actually read this at some point), but I will say our shopping trip was successful and Tim will be thrilled with his presents (if he knows what’s good for him).


After The Extra Ingredient, we decided we needed to refuel.  There is a restaurant chain called Mimi’s Cafe with a location near where we were shopping.  Neither of us had ever eaten there, so we decided to try it.   The menu is extensive and many of the choices sounded yummy.  It took us 20 to 25 minutes to decide what we wanted to eat.  We literally sent the waiter away three times.   But, we finally made our selections and enjoyed every bite of our lunches.  I had a turkey pistachio salad sandwich on sourdough bread.  It consisted of turkey, pistachios and dried cranberries blended with mayonnaise and Dijon mustard with lettuce and tomato.  Absolutely distinctive and delectable.  Because it was our first time, the management gave us a selection of freshly baked muffins to take home.  We also signed up for their email club which gets us a free breakfast and a coupon worth $10 off on our next meal.  We thought we did well with our lunch decision.


Then we drove all over the shopping center – it is a huge outdoor strip mall covering acres – looking for a jewelry store.  I wanted to get a watchband fixed, but there was not a jeweler to be found.  I find that odd.  I know there were at least three jewelers there at one time.  I wonder where they went, and why?


On the way back to my house so Ann could drop me off, we stopped at the ABC store so I could pick up a bottle of Irish Cream.  Bud and I like it in our coffee on the weekends and I had used the last of it this morning.  Ann bought a gigantic bottle of Kahlua Mudslides.   It’s time for Furniture Market in High Point.  Tim’s real job is as a furniture sales rep, and market is a madhouse around the Webb household.  Our friend Peter Simpson (also a furniture rep who lives in New Jersey) stays at the Webb house during market, plus there’s always someone who needs entertaining.  Ann figures she’ll run through that whole bottle of mudslides in no time at all (and she's not sharing).


So, here I am, home again.  I’m full and I’m exhausted.  But all in all, it was a successful day and for once I really didn’t mind shopping so much.  I wish I had found a jeweler.  I doubt if I will  mysteriously acquire that missing shopping gene, but I could probably do something like this again in five years or so.