July 31, 2004

It shouldn't take 4 hours of shopping to put on a small casual birthday party. Should it?

I hate shopping, and I always have. In particular, I don't like to window shop. I figure, if I can't have it, I don't want to waste my time or pine away and think about whether I'd like to have it. Half of the time, when I'm buying myself a "treat," I walk around the store with it for a while, doing other shopping, and then I put it back before I buy it. I ask myself, "Do I need this, or do I just want it?" Until the last few years, if I didn't really need it, I didn't get it. And I also never bought anything that wasn't on sale. Now I am less of a bargain hunter, but I still don't like to shop.

Part of my dislike for shopping may be a mild agoraphobia - agora being the Greek for a gathering place (like the marketplace), appropriately enough. I'm not so good surrounded by crowds of consumers. I have the same problem at amusement parks -a different type of consumer, but the same idea. Crowds of travelers I seem to be just fine with, so the subway in Japan should be okay. I think what makes a difference is whether the people are moving with a purpose or wandering aimlessly with a shopping basket and/or a glazed look on their faces like body snatcher victims.

And who likes Costco's stacks of heavy goods towering over their heads? We just live too close to the San Andreas fault for me to think warehouse shopping is a good idea. I for one do not want to die under a stack of Kirkwood branded canned goods after a strong rattle.

Another reason I hate shopping is the sense of waste. I distinctly remember many times when I would walk into a department store and see stacks and racks of new things - thousands and thousands of items- bright, and cheerful, and ready to buy. So much stuff. Who needs that much? How many of those things will the stores really sell? What happens to the things they don't sell? It has made me almost physically sick in the past. Now, if I think about it, it makes me want to never shop again.

Are these the suppressed emotions from a past life in a third world country, or what? I don't know. I just know that I'm no fun to shop with. R. deserves a medal after spending those 4 hours with me today. Poor kid. Good thing she likes to shop.