I am not an enthusiastic shopper by nature. I am a list shopper. My process is simple. I make a list, go directly to the areas on my list and hone in on exactly what is on my list. I do not look at anything else. I do not pass go. I consider mail order catalogs to be a gift from God. My mother was a shopper. She enjoyed this activity. She raised it to an art form. I was in awe of her dedication to shopping. I did not inherit that gene. In fact I am quite sure it skipped me entirely.
I have made many life changes since turning fifty. Shopping is one of those changes. More precisely my view of shopping was evolving. I have tried to look at the big picture of shopping. I have tried to banish all negative thoughts about shopping from my mind. With my new attitude in hand, I decided it was time to actually go shopping. I decided to not only give shopping a second look but to live on the edge and go without a list.
I got to the store early. This was part of my new attitude. Go early and avoid crowds. It was working brilliantly. The store was practically empty. I started actually shopping. There is a definite process to this shopping thing. Maybe I had just been too busy to stop and smell the shopping flowers. I was staking out the racks. Looking at each and every rack without focusing in on what any one item. This was cool. I can do this. I actually heard the music playing in the store. I was getting to it. A little rhythm to help you relax while you shop. Maybe this was what I had been missing all those years.
Yes, I was enjoying myself. Right up until the moment I looked over and saw him. It was a furry, little moving thing with a tail. No one else was around. It was just the mouse and I. Or maybe it was a rat. He was awfully large for a mouse. I froze. A mouse- rat was not in my shopping plan. It was not part of my new shopping attitude. I looked around for some help but in my zeal to get shopping early I neglected to consider the possibility that along with very few customers there would also be very few salespeople. There were less than that. There were none. I would actually have to move to find a salesperson. Did mouse-rat know this? Would mouse-rat follow my lead? I turned and headed out to the aisle. I did not look back to see if mouse-rat was following.
I came upon a group of salespeople. Four salespeople to be precise. They were engrossed in their conversation. I waited for them to acknowledge my presence. They kept talking. I waited some more. Then the old shopping me took over. I could feel my new shopping attitude crumbling right before my eyes. I interrupted their conversation. Even after all those years of telling my children not to interrupt, I did. And didn’t care. I had visions of mouse-rat coming up behind me and chewing on my feet. Those four salespeople looked at me as if I was speaking gibberish. I slowed down and explained, again, in my most Mom-like tone that they really did have a mouse-rat running around the men’s department. They split up immediately. One went to get a maintenance person. The others went to find mouse-rat. I couldn’t help wondering if they had trained for this situation. Do stores now provide mouse-rat crisis training? Mouse-rat CPR? Mouse-rat first aid?
Maintenance man showed up followed by a very squeamish salesperson. I was watching him and wondering how he was going to catch mouse-rat. He had no equipment. I would have expected him to have a net, or a trap, or at the very least a baseball bat to club mouse-rat with thereby knocking him unconscious, and giving maintenance man the chance to set mouse-rat free. This man had nothing. His strategy was to chase mouse-rat. I was amazed. He was chasing mouse-rat. Mouse-rat was running. This was a Marx brothers movie waiting to be made. Maintenance man was winning. He had mouse-rat on the run. Mouse-rat was scared and scurrying for his very life. He ran right into the fast food restaurant that is in this store. If there is one thing I never want to see it would be a mouse-rat in a restaurant. Neither did the people in the restaurant. Loud screams were followed by mouse-rat escaping, followed by maintenance man, followed by salespeople, followed by the irate store manager questioning loudly why the maintenance man had no equipment to catch mouse-rat. I couldn’t watch anymore. I was laughing too hard. People had started to come into the store and were staring at me. I had to admit I was enjoying myself. I felt bad. I had started this whole mess. What if they actually caught mouse-rat? What would they do with him? Would they hurt him? It was beyond my control. I did the only thing I could do. I gave moral support to mouse-rat.
“Go Mouse-Rat Go!!” I yelled, raising my fist in the air. I like to think mouse-rat heard me. He went for the doors and was last seen heading out into the parking lot. Shopping really isn’t so bad after all. I may try it again soon.
