I have a phobia that I’m trying to overcome. There is no easy 12-Step program for my fear. I’ve had to work at overcoming this all by myself. I am making progress but I can see where I have a long way to go. It’s not all that bad now, but it was at some point in my life, I can still remember thinking about it and dreading it. There are days when I still do. I would break out in a cold sweat at just the mention of it…
“Hey, you wanna go shopping….”
I have never liked shopping. In fact, I think I have a fear, a phobia, when it comes to shopping. I used to go out of my way to avoid it. I would spend countless Saturday afternoons alone when I was younger because all my friends would be at the mall, shopping, again. I do not feel as if I need “mall air” in my lungs on a regular basis to survive. I would rather spend time alone than to venture out into the world of the compulsive shopper. The men and women who carried a glazed look in their eyes but didn’t stop their quest to find the perfect…
Perfect what?
Maybe my parents did me a disservice in putting food in the fridge and comfortable things in our home. My mother would buy clothes and stuff for me and I was grateful for that. I trusted my mother completely not to dress me up funny and she did have good taste, still does for that matter. I never wanted to shop. I was content with never going. Was I a strange child that people whispered about when I wasn’t looking? Was I the child that parents talked about in hushed up tones only saying, “gee I hope *insert their own child’s name* doesn’t end up like that”? Was I the one that the girls would say, “Oh don’t ask her, she’s weird and besides, she’ll just say no” when they made plans to meet and spend time at the mall? Maybe, but I didn’t notice since I wasn’t looking.
Today’s punishment included stopping off at one of those places. You know, one of those stores that carries everything from clothing and food to hardware and videos. The dreaded all-purpose, “do all your shopping in one place” type stores. I hate those. I almost always go to one of those on Saturday afternoon to get the things I think I’m going to need for the upcoming week, cat food and salsa and pop tarts, the essentials. But I almost never go twice in the same week or two days in a row. Twice in the same week? I think it’s some sort of record. Maybe I should call Guinness, who knows? All I do know, is that I still hate to shop.
I stopped at “the store” this afternoon to pick up some bungee cords and a coaxial cable. Nothing big, nothing elaborate, very simple. It was what I thought would mean, “go in, get it, get out quick”. But no….
Why? Because there are evil forces, much like in Star Wars movies, at work in those places. The dark side is everywhere you look in those stores. Evil shoppers with their own agendas pushing those hateful metal carts around, just looking for unsuspecting people to run into and then say, “oops…he hehe, sorry…”
Oh yeah right…
Then there are the “shoppers without a cause” or a clue for that matter. “Hey lady, take a good look at me, do I look like I work here?” “Oh really? I guess all the employees dress like this and wear New York Yankees hats then too”. “Gee, lady, get a clue, I’ll try to be more patient with the fact that you seem nice enough but don’t ask me where they have the throat lozenges, ok? I’m one of the shopping challenged, I don’t know either and please don’t cough on me anymore, I really don’t like that”.
Then there are the employees that are around when you don’t need them and never there if you have a question. “Do I look like I need help if I’m standing here looking at two different packages of bungee cords and trying to decide which would be the best buy? And no, I’m not looking for something to use in to dive off a bridge, see it says ‘bungee cord’ right here on this package. I’m just trying to pick between the 10-inch and the 12-inch size, thank you very much. And yes, I’m sure that I have the right coaxial cable and I do realize that they have both male and female ends on them. Why don’t you go ask the lady in the sporting goods section that’s looking for cough drops if you can help her?”.
Then there is the shopper that seems to be following you around the store, as if to see if you find a better bargain than they’ve been able to find. Today, I seemed to have a lady with a paranoid delusion that I was getting the best deals and she appeared to be following me from place to place. Of course, she had to stand in front of each display that I was trying to look at, her and her very large pillows that she was trying carry around with her but only succeeded in blocking all the escape routes.
“Hey lady, get a cart… or a clue…”
Then there are the check-out lines. I think people have given birth waiting in these lines before. I usually stand there hoping that my clothes won’t go out of style by the time I reach the cash register. Heaven forbid, if that was to happen. That would mean another shopping trip I’d have to make. The thought sends chills all over me while I stand there. Do these places know that with 12 cash registers, that they can actually have more than two cashiers to check people out at any given time? After finally losing pneumonia girl and the stalker sales guy, I get in line. Oh great, it’s the pillow woman in front of me.
Oh, well, I don’t mind, it figures anyway, she’s been getting in front of me all over the store. Of course, which ever line I pick, the cash register is going to blow up or the cashier must find a restroom or suddenly be starving and in need of taking her break. I try being patient because they say that you should be patient, they say it’s a virtue. The pneumonia girl gets in line behind me while I’m standing there. Oh great, just keep those germs to yourself and no I don’t feel the need to “bond” with you while we stand here, so step back please. I’m not in the habit of touching strangers in check-out lines, thank you very much. And is it really necessary for you to look over my shoulder and cough while I make out my check?
I take my bag, thank the cashier for not allowing the cash register to blow up or not going on a break just when I reach the register. I turn to leave and trip over the pillow ladies bags. At least she has those things contained now, but since I am leaving, I don’t need to stand behind her anymore, so I walk around her and leave. I walk through the door and towards the parking lot only to be stopped by someone trying to sell me “just like homemade peanut brittle”, a little girl that has a bucket to collect change in for her “church’s building fund” and some woman that is “trying to help out the pet population to have a better life”. I hand the church girl a dollar and then give the animal girl all my change from my pocket, the peanut brittle guy doesn’t understand how anyone could not like his candy and shoots me a dirty look. I turn to leave and then stop, I look back at the three of them and tell them that the pillow woman and pneumonia girl ladies will be coming out soon and suggest that they ask them.
After all I had met them in the store and stood with them in line, it was almost like we’d become friends.
Well sort of…
Besides either the pillow woman was being rude or her tummy was making those “feed me noises” while we were standing in line. Hey, did I mention how close these ladies were standing to me? I have people I’ve known for years that don’t get that close to me.
*sigh*
Shopping, who needs it?
