Online shopping is a form of escapism. No crowds jostling my elbow for the cardigan I am trying to size, no irritated people expressing their desire to be home, and most definitely no store hours to accommodate.
I like the immediacy of online shopping. If it's in stock, there is a little indicator to tell how many of whatever is in stock in their warehouse in Dubuque.
This allows me to sit idly sipping peppermint tea and shopping in my pajamas and sox while the rest of the civilized and not so civil world pounds the putty out of someone for a three dollar candle that is on sale for a nickle. Never mind that the scent is liver and bacon and you never would have considered it before, but because it's marked down to a nickle SOMEONE will be getting this delightful gem all wrapped up and tied with a bow.
IT WAS ON SALE!!
Yeah!
Several someones will receive gifts that make no sense because they were on sale. Not because any thought went into the purchase of said gift. Nope. Nosiree Bob! It was a matter of box-checking, money saving, penny pinching perfection. Without another thought at all.
Aunt Mildred will be receiving that delightful hand knit dog fur sweater that was only a buck twenty-five on sale!! It doesn't matter that she is so allergic that her hives break out in hives. IT WAS ON SALE!!!!
Don't you people understand? A sale price is only good if the item being sold is worth anything to begin with...
Spare me your Christmas Eve I shopped for you at eleven-thirty naked lady mudflaps that you thought were oh so wonderful. First of all, I have no semi to which to attach them and secondly, the van looks bad enough without adding mudflaps to it, and a big final thirdly, if I wanted mudflaps at all, I'm more into Yosemite Sam or Bugs Bunny. I do have standards, you know!
Now, while I was preparing to brave both the icy cold and the rabid shoppers, an odd thing happened. The plan was to go out and bring home the supply of food and sundry goods to keep us from having a mutiny. Reaching into the recesses of my closet, I pulled out and
slipped on a coat I haven't worn in over a year. Feeling something odd in the left jacket pocket, I unzipped it to discover that there was MONEY in the pocket! WOO HOO! MONEY!!
To be on the safe side, I checked the other pockets of coats hanging in my closet just to make sure no money goes unspent during the peak shopping season before the Holy time of Christmas is actually upon us.
I didn't find any other money. Serendipity is like that. You get a blush of excitement and a happy surprise, but it can't be longer lasting. If it hung around, you'd never appreciate it.
Sort of like learning to appreciate the benefits of shopping without the agony of fisticuffs over an item that no one truly wants but is motivated by adrenalin to purchase. It is why I like shopping online. I can take my time looking, instead of being lemming-like forced into purchases that I can't ever justify. The rushing frenzy makes me buy stupid things when I am in a crowded store!
As an example - no one truly wants that disgusting farting Santa or a three pack of festive holiday undies with a matching bow tie (Just what is THAT combo supposed to suggest? I'm sure I don't want to know why you'd need a ratio of THREE pair of undies to the ONE tie!).
People who receive this type of holiday splendor smile and act happy, but it's just because they want to be more polite to you than you were to them when you paraded out the revolting desperation gift that says everything but how much class you have.
Another trifle... don't go shopping with someone who has no taste. I mean that seriously.
Everyone has someone in their circle of friends and acquaintances who simply has no taste, no couth and precious little understanding of why you don't just wildly spend money to buy a gift that has nothing to do with either the person or their likes and interests. I just hope I am NOT that kind of friend to someone else... the one everyone knows is a social pariah, but no one speaks up because they are too kind.
It may be one reason gift cards are popular. It's a way to give something to someone without either fighting the maddening crowds or exposing one's own lack of culture and refinement. It's a kind of gifting anonymity. Oddly soothing, and a shield of protection from your own bad taste.
I don't mind gift cards. They are far easier to use and explain than the naked lady mudflaps.
No comments:
Post a Comment