Family Daze
A wanderer shopper takes vow to become a strategist
Turning the old me into brand new me
By Debbie Farmer
You have probably observed by now that there are two kinds of holiday shoppers: the strategists who make lists before entering a store, find what they need with military precision and pull cars filled with packages into the driveway 10 minutes later; and the wanderers who saunter down each aisle, tossing items in and out of their cart because they can't seem to remember what it was they came to buy in the first place.
I am clearly the latter, but my good friend, Shirley, is a strategist. For the past five years, she's taken it upon herself as a personal challenge to help me finish my Christmas shopping before mid-June. However, as nice as this sounds, this year I vowed to become a savvy, organized shopper on my own.
The old me never bothered with things like coupons. After all, what were the chances that I would find scissors with which to cut them out, put them into my purse, and then remember to take them with me on the day I went to the store where the item was on sale? Zero.
The old me also refused to make lists. They don't do any good. If I had to write something down, I would have to get up and find a pencil in the junk drawer, where I would discover the missing button to my lucky shirt. I'd then decide that I needed to sew it on before wearing the shirt to the neighborhood Bunko game on Friday night. By the time I did all that, I'd forget what I was supposed to be writing. Besides, all that planning would destroy the spontaneity of speeding to the nearest store and tossing random items into my cart at the last possible moment on Christmas Eve.
The new, better-organized me has a detailed list and a stack of coupons that are not only in the right purse, but also for the items I need to buy. In fact, I bet if I went to one of those discount centers, I could even finish all of my shopping in one afternoon.
So, off I went. As I drove into the parking lot, I looked at all the frenzied, disorganized shoppers and felt more efficient already. Then I took a cart and entered the store.
I checked the first item on my list: automatic coin sorter. I walked down the aisle to where I thought they'd be. As I put one into the cart, however, I realized I'd have to get batteries, too. Now, to most normal people this wouldn't seem like a problem, but to me, it meant I would have to walk to the other side of the store, right past the evening-wear section. And, as long as I walked all that way, I'd have to try on a few beaded dresses. After all, it is the Millennium. But if one of them actually fit, then I'd have to find matching velvet shoes and good hosiery, which, I had a feeling, was nowhere near the batteries. So, I put the coin sorter back on the shelf and decided to get my husband something closer and more practical--like a nice waterproof parka.
However, the only one left in his size was yellow. I don't know about you, but my husband definitely won't wear yellow, unless perhaps it's the kind of high-tech jacket that turns into a bag or a fanny pack. So, I put an umbrella into my cart instead.
After that, I went to the snack bar and ordered a drink because thinking about all of that rain made me thirsty. Then I remembered I hadn't had lunch yet, so I ordered a piece of pizza, too.
As I watched throngs of shoppers wandering by me while I waited in line for my food, I silently congratulated myself on being a savvy, well-organized consumer. This year, I'll be done with my shopping way before Easter.
Debbie Farmer can be contacted at familydaze@home.com.
Saratoga, California Since 1955
