I hate shopping. I hate it with great and ferocious zeal. I have crowd anxiety issues, shopping malls smell funny, and they dry my contacts out. Also, during the holidays, people tend to wear Santa hats, and that infuriates me. I actually had a panic attack inside a Container Store in 1998. Internet shopping was made for people just like me, who would rather wear Penn State 1984 sweatshirts to work than set foot inside a mall. I love computers.
That aside, I'm kind of sad today. I was listening to NPR on my way home from work last night. Hecht's is renaming all stores "Macy's." Goodbye once again, DC-specific anything. Federated Department Stores, you are a distinctly EVIL sounding company, and Macy's? Granted, I have not actually purchased anything from Hecht's since a high school homecoming dress, or maybe some makeup. But. There is not a single store I hate more than the Tyson's Corner Macy's. It makes me want to stab my eyes out. It is messy, laid out by a preschooler, and the employees facial expressions resemble 16 year olds who are pissed at their moms for embarrassing them, even thought these women and men are obviously in their 30s. They hate helping people, which is ironic, considering they are in the business of helping people. No, please, don't bother to get up from your slouch across the counter to ring up my sweater. You're fine, I'll just do it myself. WTF, Macy's.
It's So Hard to Say Goodbye to Yesterdaaaaay-eeeeeee:
- I distinctly remember buying a Christmas dress at Garfinckels with my grandmother. It was plaid. I also remember she sewed (SEWED! Like, HAND MADE!) hair ribbons to match said dress. It was in this swanky outfit that I performed in the elfin bell choir for my 1st grade class. Also, itchy wool tights. Hot.
- Said grandmother also used to take the bus to the downtown Woodies to buy underwear. My mother cried the day Woodies closed, and still talks about the whole sordid affair wistfully, as if referring to an ex-boyfriend that dumped her. On Prom night. ("10 YEARS! 10 years. TEEEENNNNNNN YYYEEEAAARRRSSSSSSSS.")
- I had lemon meringue pie with a great aunt once a year, on my birthday, at the Hot Shoppe Cafeteria - a place where food (and probably some people) went to die.
- $5.00 bet with the Internet: My dad still has both Dart Drug and People's Drug phone numbers in his wallet.
- There was a Crown Books in my hometown, located inside of an old farmhouse (seriously) that sat next to the community center. They never had the new Sweet Valley High books in, ever. But they did have discounts on books like "The Scarlet Letter" and "A Tale of Two Cities." It was the best of stores, it was the worst of stores.
- I purchased approxmiately 43 gascaps for my first car, (a poo-colored 1982 Volvo 240 w/ electrical problems), at Trak Auto. I was/am challenged, and have a tendency to drive away with the gasflap open and the cap on my trunk. This still happens, though not as often. (Maybe, just maybe, I've only killed off the DUMB part of my brain with acohol. A girl can dream!) The amount of bank I have spent on gascaps is not as horrifying as other incidences: such as the time where I was at a gas station, and turned on the car to listen to the radio WHILE FILLING THE TANK. Nor as bad as the afternoon I saw a woman drive away from the station with the gas line still in her car, and she ripped it away from the island in an unholy spray of sweet smelling fuel. Actually, that was kind of awesome.
Where was I? Oh, right, Hechts. Godspeed, little doodle. Godspeed.