I’ve read posts about how terrible shopping is, but this one is different. I didn’t know that I could hate shopping this much, it just happened. I feel betrayed. Shopping was supposed to be fun. It was supposed to be that thing you do with your friends to be happy. Now it’s the actual worst.
This is my take on why shopping became the bane of my existence after what I became what can loosely be considered an adult.
- Price tags are a liar. What is that you say? It’s only $16? Sorry my dear Watson, but $16.99 is actually closer to $17. Big difference. Oh, and don’t forget to add tax.
- Prices actually hurt my feelings. I feel like there are enough Nordstrom’s and Saks Fifths in my vicinity that I should be able to shop there, but for some reason, these places continue to shun me.
- It’s a great (translation: depressing) way to compare yourself to others. Shopping is fun with friends, right? Wrong. You’ll rethink that when you can’t budget for Chick-fil-A, but your friend is walking with a brand new Michael Kors bag.
- Dressing rooms are a bitch. Trying on clothes is a necessary evil to prevent another evil called returns. However, they don’t make it easy. It’s like the dressing room is telling you, “these clothes won’t change how ugly you look.” Also, “you look like a dirty crook so we pay people to count your clothes.”
- Other people are the worst. Since most people also hate shopping, shopping centers are a cesspool for anger and violence. The shoppers hate you, the salespeople hate you, and the teenagers really hate you now that you instituted a curfew because of that last brawl.
- Time is money. So really you’re paying twice. Oh, I’ll just spend 5 minutes here, my ass.
- There’s more than one way to shop. Sometimes you’re just looking for some pants. Sometimes a fifty-year-old married man is looking to get in your pants.
- Those little kiosks begging you to “just try it.” I know this is how you make a living, Martha, but I don’t have time for you to put lotion on my hands and pitch your $60 product.
- Disappointment reigns supreme. You’re lured to the mall for some healing or gratification – maybe I’ll feel better if I buy this one thing – and you’re left with nothing but crap you don’t need, an empty wallet, despair, and broken dreams.
- I have to actually pay for things. Which, clearly, is the absolute worst!
I dedicate this post to my friend, Jon, for whom positivity is never enough and negativity is never-ending amusement.