Monday, February 25, 2008

Why I Hate Shopping--Reason No. 164

It's early Sunday morning, and I slide out of bed with a plan.

My mother has gotten it in her head that I should run-not-walk to Macy's to purchase an outfit she's seen in an ad. For extra special enticement, she's offered to PAY for it (never mind that I make plenty of money and can buy my own clothes). It's a sweet sentiment, right?

So off I go to the Mall.

Only I arrive to an empty parking lot. What? Malls don't open at 10 a.m.? Who knew? Already I feel like the foolish untrained shopper that I am.

Luckily, JC Penny's IS open. (Savvy execs, those Penny's people--snatching all the ignorant early birds.) I wander in and try on a few tops. Find one I could live with until I look at the tag. Pretty pricey for Penny's, in my humble opinion. I leave it in the dressing room.

I decide to investigate Part B of my plan which is to catch a showing of No Country For Old Men at the multiplex.

Only there IS no multiplex. Okay, so when did they get rid of the movie theater?

I kill a little more time, waiting for Macy's to open. Finally, they push back the iron gates and I enter, armed with the name of the department (Choices) and a vague memory of what the outfit looks like. (Long, black coat. Black pants. But, like they go together in a set.)

Meanwhile, I try on other stuff as I search for Choices (yeah, the irony is killing me). Today I'm feeling rather confident, thanks to the four weeks at the gym I've put in.

Only, nothing--and I mean NOTHING--fits.

I get seriously depressed.

Plus, no sign of Choices.

I move to head upstairs, but the escalators aren't working, which I interpret as a possible sign from God. I spy another set outside the store, make my way to them, and nearly trip over a toddler playing--yes, playing--on the first step. Clueless dad watches from above, laughing at his son's delight. Both seem oblivious to the potential for instant digit dismemberment. I wait until the fun's over, then climb past them.

Once I reach the second floor, I see the Choices sign beckoning from across the room.

Eureka, I think.

Only I find, like, four dresses hanging beneath it. Clearly not the pants and jacket in the ad.

I circle the perimeter, discovering more Choices departments along the way. Apparently, Choices isn't the name of a department at all...? Not certain. The only thing I'm certain of is that I don't see what I'm looking for.

At least, I don't think so...because by now, I have no idea what I'm looking for.

I haul out the cell phone and call. First my dad describes it, then my mother gets on the phone and gives me all the pertinent details: the designer, the white piping along the front, blah, blah, blah.

I still don't see THE OUTFIT anywhere, so I try on other stuff, the whole time wondering how ANYONE could LOVE to shop...I mean, let's face it: where are the perks to seeing yourself naked from every angle under harsh, unflattering light? And if I wanted to spend the morning hanging up clothes, I could have stayed home and cleaned out my closet.

Thoroughly frustrated, I abandon the quest, jump in my car, and head to Aaron Brothers for a picture frame.

Wait a second. Where did Aaron Brothers go??

I give up and drive home where at least I know where things are. Kind of.

Did I mention I detest shopping?

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