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In Hell, They Make You Go Shopping

Thursday, November 11, 2010, 22:49 EDT Leave a comment Go to comments

I hate the mall. I hate shopping. I have never understood why some people (women, mostly) think it’s fun to shop. To me, shopping is something you do when you have no alternative.

I went shopping earlier this week to buy a wedding gift for my cousin’s daughter, who is getting married tomorrow afternoon. (By the way, who gets married at 4:30 in the afternoon? I mean, besides my cousin’s daughter. Pretty much everyone has to take time off from work to make it to the church, even the locals, which I am not. I have to drive an hour and a half. All I can say is there had better be an open bar.) But as I was saying, I went shopping for the wedding gift even though I could have bought it through the online registry, simply because I didn’t want to pay for shipping. Oh, and I had a coupon for 20% off, good in-store only. But it took me less than 15 minutes to make my selection, and I was out of there with a much nicer gift than I could have afforded if I had bought it online. It was a rare gratifying shopping experience.

This evening, I went shopping again, this time for a dress for said wedding. Once again, it was a venture born of necessity; the last wedding I went to was about 10 pounds ago, so I didn’t have anything appropriate that actually fit. It is not an exaggeration to say I probably tried on 30 different dresses, because I’m not lucky enough to love the first one I try. Between that ordeal and picking up incidentals like hosiery and what the stores euphemistically call “intimate apparel,” it took three hours before I finally escaped. Which I did just in the nick of time. My feet hurt, my head hurt, and I was about five minutes away from yelling expletives at unsuspecting strangers just to blow off steam. At least I ended up with a totally kick-ass dress for all my trouble.

The worst part of the whole experience was that I was assaulted throughout with the trappings of Christmas—decorations, music, gift wrap and ribbons, the whole nine yards—which served only to remind me that there is much more shopping to be done in the next 6 weeks. Ugh.

If there is a hell, it probably looks a lot like the mall, and everything in it is the wrong color or the wrong size, and only the ugly stuff is on sale. If that isn’t incentive to live right, I don’t know what is.

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