I HATE THE MALL
On-line shopping has totally spoiled me.
Today, I took the train out to my wife's work, so we could hit the mall in the afternoon. Having done all my Christmas shopping online, I was dreading everything about this experience. Accordingly, I was a cauldron of impatience.
For one, we had to fight traffic -- on the way to the mall, in the parking lot, and on the way home. Why not shop in your flannel PJ's without leaving the house? Plus I got hungry and had to pee several times while we were walking around; isn't it better to pause from your web surfing and head down the hall for a snack or to use the facilities?
Then, as always, I got lost in the department store. With all the mirrors and the mindless in-store displays, every direction looks the same; how am I supposed to remember which entrance we came in from? This happens on-line, too, of course, but at least when you head down the wrong path you can just go "back," "back," and "back," rather than physically having to retrace your steps while dodging strollers, fragile displays, and the family of five whoisallholdinghandswhiletheywalkaroundthemall.
By the way, I went to a wireless phone store to buy a new phone for my wife earlier in the day. I was already pissed off having to go to the store -- I tried to do this by Internet and then phone, but they said it was best to physically go into a retail location -- so I sauntered in hoping to get in, look around, pick something, and get out.
Except that that's not how things are done in that store. No, you have to sign in, and then they call you. I signed in, and noticed eight people ahead of me on the sheet. Eight people! I have to wait, just to do business with you! I'm incredulous at this point.
Back to the mall. I got in line with my wife's gifts, and then right as I'm about to put them on the counter, the woman working the register says, "Would you mind paying over there; I have to use the restroom?" Again, I say to myself: I have to wait just to do business with you! What a snob I am. I'm just used to picking my stuff, typing in my credit card number, and knowing that my stuff was already en route.
The whole scene was so overwhelming for my wife that she ended up buying all her gifts in the first store we walked into, all the while wondering if she was missing better bargains further into the mall. Again, I thought of my point-and-click ways: open multiple windows, look at multiple stores, pick the best one, and close every other window. Not so easy to do in the land of the real.
I regret I was such a jerk -- to the guy at the wireless store, to the woman who had to use the bathroom, and to my wife. I guess on-line shopping has spoiled me to common decencies like waiting in line, finding a parking space, and walking around.
On-line shopping has totally spoiled me.
Today, I took the train out to my wife's work, so we could hit the mall in the afternoon. Having done all my Christmas shopping online, I was dreading everything about this experience. Accordingly, I was a cauldron of impatience.
For one, we had to fight traffic -- on the way to the mall, in the parking lot, and on the way home. Why not shop in your flannel PJ's without leaving the house? Plus I got hungry and had to pee several times while we were walking around; isn't it better to pause from your web surfing and head down the hall for a snack or to use the facilities?
Then, as always, I got lost in the department store. With all the mirrors and the mindless in-store displays, every direction looks the same; how am I supposed to remember which entrance we came in from? This happens on-line, too, of course, but at least when you head down the wrong path you can just go "back," "back," and "back," rather than physically having to retrace your steps while dodging strollers, fragile displays, and the family of five whoisallholdinghandswhiletheywalkaroundthemall.
By the way, I went to a wireless phone store to buy a new phone for my wife earlier in the day. I was already pissed off having to go to the store -- I tried to do this by Internet and then phone, but they said it was best to physically go into a retail location -- so I sauntered in hoping to get in, look around, pick something, and get out.
Except that that's not how things are done in that store. No, you have to sign in, and then they call you. I signed in, and noticed eight people ahead of me on the sheet. Eight people! I have to wait, just to do business with you! I'm incredulous at this point.
Back to the mall. I got in line with my wife's gifts, and then right as I'm about to put them on the counter, the woman working the register says, "Would you mind paying over there; I have to use the restroom?" Again, I say to myself: I have to wait just to do business with you! What a snob I am. I'm just used to picking my stuff, typing in my credit card number, and knowing that my stuff was already en route.
The whole scene was so overwhelming for my wife that she ended up buying all her gifts in the first store we walked into, all the while wondering if she was missing better bargains further into the mall. Again, I thought of my point-and-click ways: open multiple windows, look at multiple stores, pick the best one, and close every other window. Not so easy to do in the land of the real.
I regret I was such a jerk -- to the guy at the wireless store, to the woman who had to use the bathroom, and to my wife. I guess on-line shopping has spoiled me to common decencies like waiting in line, finding a parking space, and walking around.
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