I hate shopping. No, really. Seriously. Any kind of shopping sparks shivers of fear, but Christmas shopping evokes a cold sweat. For one thing, it requires interaction with humans. Not so easy a task for a recluse living out in the hills. Oh, don't get me wrong. I do not live at the top of Mount Crumpit with a dog named Max. It is just that my "personal space" is about one hundred feet and Christmas shoppers ignore that. But, to participate in the Whobilation celebration requires thoughtful gifts, so today I ate a hearty breakfast, strapped on my flack vest and trudged out to the shopping mall, biting my nails and gnashing my teeth.
Because I had to wrestle a cart out from under two children (the mother may have meant I could have the two children, not the cart) I didn't see this sign in front of the store. You are going to have to trust me on this. I didn't choose this store because of the sign. Honest.
Whoever thought of this gimmick was a genius. What draws people into a store at Christmas? Fifty percent off sales? Five items with ridiculously low prices? Chocolate? HA. I laugh at such shenanigans. Well, maybe the chocolate...
But wine tasting? Fabulous. I'd only intended to taste one or two, but the woman kept saying,
"Wait, I think you should try this one." I didn't want to hurt her feelings, right? By the time I got out of the store, I'd just about completed my shopping. At least I think so. There are about ten bags of items in my living room. Shopping was never so relaxing.
I do wonder about the sign, though. The times say 1-4 and 3-6.
Tap tap tap.
Odd, don't you think?