I’m not a crowd-loving person. I’ve mentioned this a few hundred times already. I don’t particularly enjoy people up in my personal space, or fighting like a salmon swimming upstream to break through the herd of people shuffling along with no awareness of anyone but themselves, or the cacophony of loud voices and what should be private conversation broadcast for your neighbor to overhear. Mr. Darcy is not a fan either and yet we braved Ikea this weekend.
Let me tell you, even a soft serve ice cream cone can not soothe the wounds inflicted from shopping there. We managed to escape without maiming anyone or getting into an argument with one another.
But then we went to Old Navy. Which was, of course, a very baaaaaaaaaad idea.
You see, Old Navy has very chirpy, seemingly helpful staff who can’t seem to run a check out line to save their life. Every time I go there, I am subjected to a long wait and this cannot be because I have the worst luck ever picking a check out line. (Can it?) There’s inevitably someone who needs to return something or ten somethings and they just so happen to be in my line. I switched lines thinking the shorter one would race me through faster. NEVER TRUST A SHORT LINE. The customer in front of me had multiple purchases so she could use multiple coupons. I was deceived! After the first transaction which required a lot of negotiation and I was starting my deep breathing to calm myself, the check out woman says to me, “This is going to take a while.” So I hop on over to my first line and the clerk rings me up and overcharges me but I didn’t notice until I was out the door. It was buy one, get one free so I had to go back. This is why shopping on-line appeals to me- no crowds, no chirpy, inept sales clerks, no deep breathing required.
But hey, I got two new pairs of yoga pants for the price of one.
We didn’t stop there because we are apparently masochists. Macy’s was having a one day sale so we went. Mr. Darcy managed to get three new shirts at $10 each (total steal!) whereas all I got was a minor meltdown in the dressing room.
But that, my dears, is a post for another day.