Tag Archives: Shopping

Liquor Store Adventures: The Return of Mama

If you missed my original post about Mama, please read this first.  Then come back and read this.

We did it again. My adult son and I went to the liquor store in our local grocery store.  It just made sense to do so as we had to go to Kohl’s and pick up lunch at Panera. It was just so damn convenient.

But it was also scary.  As we got out of the car, we both crossed our fingers that Mama would not be working. We just wanted one awkward free visit.

Before we walked into the liquor portion of the store, we looked both ways as though we were crossing a busy street and trying to avoid getting hit by a semi.  No Mama.  There were just two guys stocking wine right outside the doorway.  Big sigh of relief.

I grabbed a bottle of regular Tito’s vodka, the big one, and a small Absolute vodka that was wrapped in blue and silver flip sequins. It was just pretty.  Then, I told my son to grab a bottle of good scotch for my husband.  Well, I drink it, too, so I guess it’s for both of us.

When we were done shopping, we both walked slowly to the cash register, while looking around for Mama.  Our heads were spinning like something out of the Exorcist, just to be sure we weren’t going to suddenly have her in our face saying, “Mama doesn’t judge.” or any of her other catchphrases.

The coast was clear.  The man at the register started to ring us up.  That’s when Mama walked behind the counter.  I held my breath and avoided eye contact as though she were a homicidal male lion.  I thought to myself, “Will she recognize me? Does she know I blogged about her? Will she start talking to me? Do I know enough Spanish to pretend I don’t know English? What if Mama knows Spanish?”

Even though I was in a panic on the inside, I managed to remain calm while I swiped my credit card and signed.  While I was signing, I heard the guy behind the counter ask Mama, “What happened to that Ketal One I told you to stock?” Mama didn’t know what he was talking about. He didn’t call her Mama, oddly enough.

On our way out of the store, I whispered to my son, “We just dodged a bullet.”

He replied, “I know. I felt my butthole tighten when she walked in.  She seemed normal today. Also, I think I know what happened to that Ketal One.”

Mama probably stashed the Ketal One for later, even though she is a Jack girl.

To make a long story short, my son and I should just drive out of our way to go to the real liquor store.


Holiday Shopping When You Hate People

7finalWell, it’s the “most wonderful” time of the year again. By “most wonderful” I mean stressful as hell.  It’s time for shopping and decorating and cooking and baking and gaining at least ten pounds and dealing with oodles of people.  Yes, the holidays are here.  I say holidays because there are a few of them at the same time; so don’t get all political/religious on me.  I hate all of the winter holidays equally because they involve going out in public and shopping with others.  If you’re anything like me, and you probably aren’t since I am pretty weird, you hate Christmas/Hanukah/Kwanza shopping, too.  So, I have prepared a list of holiday shopping coping mechanisms.

Try like fuck to find it on Amazon and avoid the whole shopping trip.  I know. I know. There are certain things you CAN’T buy online.  With my tree trunk legs, I have to buy boots in person because most of them don’t fit my sturdy calves.

If you just can’t avoid shopping amongst other humans, eat hard-boiled eggs and Brussels sprouts for breakfast.  Once you start dropping flammable farts, everyone will steer clear.

If you loathe salespeople like I do, avoid eye contact when entering store.  Just keep your chin on your chest and stare at the floor.

Want more tips?  Head over to the Knot So Subtle Laughing section and look for me there.


Amazon: Where Hermit Shopping is a Pleasure (Publix)

Shopping makes me feel like this.
Shopping makes me feel like this.

Sundays tend to be my domestic goddess days. I’m usually busy for hours with vacuuming, laundry, and even ironing. While I was ironing my son’s work pants, khaki Chinos, I thought that he could probably use a couple more pairs. Then, I thought about going to Kohl’s, where we got the pair he presently owns. I didn’t want to think about how they are going to insist I use my Kohl’s card so I can save whatever percent, and ask me if I have my Kohl’s cash or Kohl’s coupon from the circular that is mailed to my house every 25 seconds. As your friendly neighborhood work from home ENGLISH professor, shopping that requires all of these numbers and extra accessories makes my head hurt. Then, I remembered that I don’t have to go to Kohl’s, or anywhere, to get my son’s Chinos. There is that glowing safe haven for all of my shopping needs – Amazon.

  1. You don’t get pestered to join a rewards program every time you check out. If one more cashier asks me to add a plastic card to my key ring I may end up on the evening news for flying over the counter and stomping on the cash register while screaming, “I JUST WANT TO PAY AND LEAVE!!” On Amazon, you get asked to join the Prime program once a year, and it actually has real benefits like free shipping and cheap movie rentals.
  2. You can choose not to apply for the store credit card without some human in your face trying to reiterate how much money you will save because obviously your are not understanding this. I don’t want the damn store card and I’m not stupid.
  3. Two words—other people. You don’t have to walk through a maze of people who either enjoy shopping or don’t know what the hell they want to get to your item of choice. You just click and pay. It’s a slice of hermit heaven.
  4. Most things are actually in stock. I hate to name names here, but Best Buy, I’m talking to you. Most of the time that I go into actual stores, other than the grocery store, I am unable to locate the item I need. This happens ALL THE TIME in Best Buy. It almost NEVER happens on Amazon. They stock EVERYTHING.
  5. No parking lot.   Parking lots always seem full whenever I want to shop. Also, they’re usually not covered, so you need to walk in the snow, rain, wind or whatever unpleasant weather to get to the nice climate-controlled store. And, there’s usually that one idiot who leaves their dog in the car, which causes me to have to dig out the phone number to report them to the sheriff’s office. In addition to everything else, there are creepy people who stalk you so they can take your parking spot, and sometimes, according to a recent 20/20 episode, they get violent.

I’m not taking any chances. I will just stay right here at my cozy dining room table with a cat on my lap, and log in to Amazon. See you never, people-filled stores.

Note: “Where Shopping is a Pleasure” is Publix’s slogan.  Publix is the world’s best grocery store, and I miss it dearly now that I live in Yankee land.

Drowning in a Sea of Blue Gingham

I need an outfit made of this.
I need an outfit made of this.

I’m pretty sure that online shopping was invented for me and my fellow introverts.  For us, going to the mall in the middle of a weekday is torture, never mind on a weekend, like today.  My husband and I were just going to return a sweater to J. Jill and have some lunch.   My husband also wanted to stop by Bath and Body Works to get more foamy hand soap.   I love things that smell good, so I agreed to go with him.  Big mistake.  Bath and Body Works is having their SEMI-ANNUAL SALE, which means a lot of frigging people were in the store.  People.

And by people, I’m not just talking about shoppers, and there were tons of those.  There were also approximately 9,582 salespeople in blue aprons on duty. Everywhere I turned, someone was telling me about things that were 75% off, or things that were buy 2 get 1 free.  They were asking if they could help me find something when I was trying to read the labels on the various foamy soaps. There was nothing but chatty people and conversations about numbers.  It was an introverted English major’s nightmare.

I can read!!
I can read!!

Obviously, I could never work at Bath and Body Works, or anywhere where you have to approach other humans and talk.  This, along with the fact that I don’t like to wear pants with real waistbands, is why I work online. (I have no idea how I used to do stand-up comedy.) Just for fun, I tried to imagine the meeting that happened before the store opened.  I pictured a middle-aged woman, in a blue apron, who smelled like a mixture of Velvet Sugar and Japanese Cherry Blossom, standing in front of 9,500, or so, sales girls (I have yet to see a male sales person in Bath and Body Works) in a small, back room filled with blue gingham bags and boxes.  Her pep talk would go something like this:

OK ladies!! Listen up!  Yesterday we sold 580,997 dollars in lotions alone, but we can do better.  You have to be PERKIER ladies!  We have a Starbucks two stores down from us, and a Teavana  a little bit down from that.  CAFFEINATE! Snort the espresso grounds if you have to!  Go up to every person that comes through that door.  Tell them about the 3 for 2. Offer to let them sample things.  EVERY PERSON.  If you get too shaky from the grounds, huff the Eucalyptus Bath Salts, I mean Soak.  It’s a SOAK now. DO NOT call it BATH SALTS, not after that whole face-eating thing.  It’s in the bathroom behind the Sexy Dahlia Rush spray.

They must have listened to her because they were everywhere.  I felt like I was drowning in a sea of blue gingham.  I thought maybe I should have WORN head to toe blue gingham, with matching face paint, like some kind of Bath and Body Works camo.  That way I could have just shopped in peace without all of this “help.” I wanted to get in fetal position by the candle wall and scream,  “STOP TALKING TO ME!  I can READ the signs and labels!  Leave me alone; I just want to buy soap!!”
It was total sensory overload.  Not only was there SO MUCH NOISE from all of the TALKING, there were too many scents.  Enchanted Orchid was mixing with Party Dress (Wouldn’t that smell like sweat and spilled vodka?), and Espresso Bar was competing with both of them for storage space in my nostrils, thus suffocating me as much as the constant attention from the Gingham Army.


After this scary experience, my husband and I went to Molly Woo’s for a late lunch.  It was not crowded and they have a bar.  Win win.  So, like a lot of people, I wanted to post a picture of my beverages on Instagram.  I thought it would be amusing since I ordered hot tea and a shot of vodka.  It’s medicinal; don’t judge me.  Anyway, I asked my husband what the hash tag for Bath and Body Works was since he used to work for the parent company.  He told me BBW. So, I put #BBW on my picture of a teapot, teacup, and highball glass.  You guys, #BBW is so NOT Bath and Body Works.  I did a search on Instagram, just to check, and I saw a lot of shots of voluptuous women in bikinis.  I quickly learned that it means “big, beautiful women.”  Who knew? I think my curvier sisters are beautiful and all; I just feel bad for the guy who did that hash tag search after I posted my pic.  Sorry about that!