Tomorrow is Thanksgiving already? This year really seemed to fly by. Except for the instances when it seemed like time was crawling too slowly… maybe it was a combination of the two. Part of the year went by too slowly, and part of it went by too quickly. I mean, there was definitely a week in March that seemed to last about a month. And the last month has felt like a week. (And I pretty much have no idea what I’m talking about right now…)
Actually, I’m a little distraught that Thanksgiving snuck up on me this year. I usually have at least a FEW Christmas gifts purchased by now, but I don’t have ANYTHING yet. And now I only have a month to get everything done. Since I like to do all my shopping over the internet, I can’t wait until the last minute to shop – otherwise I run the risk of dealing with backordered merchandise that shows up much too late. And then the whole “avoid mall crowds by shopping online” thing is moot, because I end up needing to go out at the last minute to buy something anyway. Yeah, I really need to start my online shopping…
Talking about last-minute shopping reminds me of a story I wrote about a million years ago. It was actually based on a true anecdote I’d heard somewhere, about how a store had to honor a ridiculously low price on merchandise, because it had been mistakenly marked. I think I was about fifteen when I wrote this, so if it’s horrible, that’s my excuse:
Penny for Your Sled?
“Attention shoppers. Macy’s Day Before Christmas Sale has begun.”
I grasped my styrofoam cup of coffee a little tighter as shoppers rushed past me into the department store. I was a little ashamed of myself, coming out to the mall on Christmas Eve for the sole purpose of watching procrastinating gift-givers. It was just a small glimpse of my twisted personality. Sipping the hot coffee slowly, I smiled inwardly, secure in the knowledge that my presents were all wrapped and under the tree in my family’s home. I looked into the crowded store, trying to decide whether or not to venture inside. Macy’s had gone all out with their decorations this year, and the glittering white lights on the many bow-bedecked trees almost blinded me as my eyes surveyed the area. I walked in, took one last sip of coffee, and threw the cup into a trash can next to the cosmetics counter. A woman with shopping bags in both hands sideswiped the back of my leg as she hurried by.
“Sorry,” she mumbled, glancing back to see who her victim had been. I decided to take a look at the winter sports equipment, which was being displayed in a less-crowded area. As I made my way toward the skis, I noticed a stock boy with orange hair and freckles marking down prices on everything in sight. He was working on boots when I reached the displays. I glanced at a tag on a pair of them and almost gasped.
“That’s a markdown?” I said to myself. I figured a large part of Macy’s inventory was out of my price range, and with one last look at the tag, I turned to leave. It was at this particular moment when I heard it. A voice, high-pitched and filled with excitement, that made its way above the bustle of the store, and crying out, “the sleds are a penny! The sleds are a penny!”
Now, I could have just left, I could have passed the screaming woman off as a product of holiday madness, but curiosity got the better of me, and I let my eyes wander to a display I had overlooked.
The fanatical shopper was standing next to a mountain of beautiful sleds. Not just any sleds – these were made in Germany, with glowing, polished wood and stainless steel runners. These were perfect-for-a-snowy-hill-just-like-Rosebud-in-Citizen-Kane sleds. I could already feel the frosty wind whipping through my hair as I walked closer to the shopper and looked down at the price on one of the sleds. One penny. Impossible!
“The sleds are a penny!” the woman yelled out again. By this time, the freckle-faced stock boy had noticed the commotion, and with fear in his eyes, he ran through a pair of swinging double-doors behind the sled display. He returned very quickly with a gray-haired man in a business suit.
“What is going on here?” Mr. Business demanded of the ever-increasing crowd in front of the sleds.
“The sleds are a penny!” the shopper said, more quietly this time. I was beginning to wonder if that phrase was the extent of her vocabulary.
“I’m sorry folks, there’s been a mistake. We obviously can’t sell the sleds for--”
“Now wait a second!” Ah, so the fanatic did have a broader vocabulary. “I used to be a buyer for A&S and I know my rights – you HAVE to sell us these sleds for a penny!”
I began to move closer to the display, eyeing the sled on the very top of the arrangement. It was so perfect. And only a penny! What a steal.
Mr. Business and the fanatic seemed to be having an in-depth discussion on the rights of shoppers. After lengthy minutes of debating and arguing, Mr. Business threw up his hands and growled, “the sleds are a penny!”
A cheer arose from the sled crowd, and I managed to grab the perfect sled from the top of the pile before the shoppers descended on them like vultures after the kill.
Proud of myself, I sauntered up to a confused cashier and dug in my pocket for a penny. All I had were a couple quarters. I placed one of them on the counter, smiled the smile of a satisfied shopper, and with a surge of generosity said, “keep the change.”
After all, it was Christmas.
Hmmm… I guess that wasn’t too horrible, was it? :) I can actually remember writing this story in my head while I was lying in bed one morning, and then getting up and running downstairs to the computer in the family room so I could type it up. I do have these occasional “Rainman” moments where I can write a story in my head and then remember it when I go to write it down. In fact, I wrote most of this post last night when I was trying to fall asleep. I seem to do a lot of pseudo-writing when I’m lying in bed… I guess because I have a hard time quieting my mind sometimes. Unless I’m drugged. My drug of choice being Benadryl. (Seriously – Benadryl is great when you can’t fall asleep and you have random stories running through your mind that you’d rather not be writing…)
Well, to prevent myself from sounding even more crazy than I already do, I’ll go ahead and wrap this up – in case I don’t have a chance to write anything tomorrow, I hope everyone has a very happy Thanksgiving!!
Actually, I’m a little distraught that Thanksgiving snuck up on me this year. I usually have at least a FEW Christmas gifts purchased by now, but I don’t have ANYTHING yet. And now I only have a month to get everything done. Since I like to do all my shopping over the internet, I can’t wait until the last minute to shop – otherwise I run the risk of dealing with backordered merchandise that shows up much too late. And then the whole “avoid mall crowds by shopping online” thing is moot, because I end up needing to go out at the last minute to buy something anyway. Yeah, I really need to start my online shopping…
Talking about last-minute shopping reminds me of a story I wrote about a million years ago. It was actually based on a true anecdote I’d heard somewhere, about how a store had to honor a ridiculously low price on merchandise, because it had been mistakenly marked. I think I was about fifteen when I wrote this, so if it’s horrible, that’s my excuse:
Penny for Your Sled?
“Attention shoppers. Macy’s Day Before Christmas Sale has begun.”
I grasped my styrofoam cup of coffee a little tighter as shoppers rushed past me into the department store. I was a little ashamed of myself, coming out to the mall on Christmas Eve for the sole purpose of watching procrastinating gift-givers. It was just a small glimpse of my twisted personality. Sipping the hot coffee slowly, I smiled inwardly, secure in the knowledge that my presents were all wrapped and under the tree in my family’s home. I looked into the crowded store, trying to decide whether or not to venture inside. Macy’s had gone all out with their decorations this year, and the glittering white lights on the many bow-bedecked trees almost blinded me as my eyes surveyed the area. I walked in, took one last sip of coffee, and threw the cup into a trash can next to the cosmetics counter. A woman with shopping bags in both hands sideswiped the back of my leg as she hurried by.
“Sorry,” she mumbled, glancing back to see who her victim had been. I decided to take a look at the winter sports equipment, which was being displayed in a less-crowded area. As I made my way toward the skis, I noticed a stock boy with orange hair and freckles marking down prices on everything in sight. He was working on boots when I reached the displays. I glanced at a tag on a pair of them and almost gasped.
“That’s a markdown?” I said to myself. I figured a large part of Macy’s inventory was out of my price range, and with one last look at the tag, I turned to leave. It was at this particular moment when I heard it. A voice, high-pitched and filled with excitement, that made its way above the bustle of the store, and crying out, “the sleds are a penny! The sleds are a penny!”
Now, I could have just left, I could have passed the screaming woman off as a product of holiday madness, but curiosity got the better of me, and I let my eyes wander to a display I had overlooked.
The fanatical shopper was standing next to a mountain of beautiful sleds. Not just any sleds – these were made in Germany, with glowing, polished wood and stainless steel runners. These were perfect-for-a-snowy-hill-just-like-Rosebud-in-Citizen-Kane sleds. I could already feel the frosty wind whipping through my hair as I walked closer to the shopper and looked down at the price on one of the sleds. One penny. Impossible!
“The sleds are a penny!” the woman yelled out again. By this time, the freckle-faced stock boy had noticed the commotion, and with fear in his eyes, he ran through a pair of swinging double-doors behind the sled display. He returned very quickly with a gray-haired man in a business suit.
“What is going on here?” Mr. Business demanded of the ever-increasing crowd in front of the sleds.
“The sleds are a penny!” the shopper said, more quietly this time. I was beginning to wonder if that phrase was the extent of her vocabulary.
“I’m sorry folks, there’s been a mistake. We obviously can’t sell the sleds for--”
“Now wait a second!” Ah, so the fanatic did have a broader vocabulary. “I used to be a buyer for A&S and I know my rights – you HAVE to sell us these sleds for a penny!”
I began to move closer to the display, eyeing the sled on the very top of the arrangement. It was so perfect. And only a penny! What a steal.
Mr. Business and the fanatic seemed to be having an in-depth discussion on the rights of shoppers. After lengthy minutes of debating and arguing, Mr. Business threw up his hands and growled, “the sleds are a penny!”
A cheer arose from the sled crowd, and I managed to grab the perfect sled from the top of the pile before the shoppers descended on them like vultures after the kill.
Proud of myself, I sauntered up to a confused cashier and dug in my pocket for a penny. All I had were a couple quarters. I placed one of them on the counter, smiled the smile of a satisfied shopper, and with a surge of generosity said, “keep the change.”
After all, it was Christmas.
Hmmm… I guess that wasn’t too horrible, was it? :) I can actually remember writing this story in my head while I was lying in bed one morning, and then getting up and running downstairs to the computer in the family room so I could type it up. I do have these occasional “Rainman” moments where I can write a story in my head and then remember it when I go to write it down. In fact, I wrote most of this post last night when I was trying to fall asleep. I seem to do a lot of pseudo-writing when I’m lying in bed… I guess because I have a hard time quieting my mind sometimes. Unless I’m drugged. My drug of choice being Benadryl. (Seriously – Benadryl is great when you can’t fall asleep and you have random stories running through your mind that you’d rather not be writing…)
Well, to prevent myself from sounding even more crazy than I already do, I’ll go ahead and wrap this up – in case I don’t have a chance to write anything tomorrow, I hope everyone has a very happy Thanksgiving!!
5 comments:
Gobble Gobble Gobble. Happy Thanksgiving.
Thanks, Dave -- same to you! :)
I'm not sure which version of "Scrooge" the sled story belongs to!
That aside, I just wanted to drop by and wish you and your family (so far, I've figured out it consists of Eric, Rick and Lisa's Mom, plus you of course!) a wonderful Thanksgiving with all the blessings it brings. It's good to remind ourselves of that sometimes. And thanks for the comments from time to time too. I thoroughly enjoy them.
P.S. I must confess that I may have missed some members because I don't always read through your travelogues (slap my wrist!). And, oh yeah, there's a Deena or something like that who is the wife of a Chicago detective. I KNOW I'm missing some others!
I'm lousy with names!!
Take care
R.
P.S. I didn't know if "Dave" was family or not!
Thanks so much for the good wishes, Evydense! :) My "related" family would be my mom and dad, my younger brother Eric, my older brother Robert (who I don't always talk about as much as Eric... not that I don't love my older brother... but Eric and I are closer in age and have always been a lot like friends...) and my husband Rick.
But I think my "family" consists of many people who aren't even related to me -- like the aforementioned Dave... and also people like Faisal, Nick, Cindy, Eric D., Debbie, my dog Echo and cat Allegro (hey, who says family has to be HUMAN? :))...
I'm not sure about the Deena person you were talking about -- maybe you were thinking of Debbie, who's married to Eric D. -- they live in New Jersey. Not to be confused with my BROTHER Eric, who is the Chicago detective. But he's not married. I'm sure that was all very clear and not confusing at all. ;) (Trust me -- even those of us who KNOW Eric and Eric get confused sometimes... :))
Thanks again! I always appreciate your comments. :)
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