I celebrate Christmas. So every year, I experience a part of adulting that I’m not exactly thrilled with.
Shopping…
Pre-pandemic, my husband was even less thrilled than I. Why? Because he despises going to a mall more than standing in line at the DMV. Or getting a root canal. Or waiting on hold with the absolute worst Muzak playing in his ear. Now, he orders everything online, as most of us do, so he’s pretty darn happy.
The problem is that I have always volunteered to shop for everyone we buy for. Normally, this wouldn’t be so bad. I’d call up a girlfriend, we’d take a day off, go to lunch, and shop until we literally dropped.
Well, at least I did—on the couch when I got home.
My feet would ache, and my arms would as well from carrying so much stuff at one time. But it would all be worth it to see the joyful smiles on people’s faces…
Oh, I’m not talking about when I gave them the gifts. I’m talking about the folks who saw me pathetically stumbling about the mall while hauling 52 packages in 37 bags and wearing a coat that I should have saved for the next blizzard. Because what’s not to love about a sweaty, middle-aged woman lumbering around a mall?
You would think that now since I can do just about, if not all, my shopping online, I would be happy. No hauling, no sweating, no throbbing feet.
But that would be too easy.
While shopping online is convenient, it’s also a bit scary. How, you may ask? When I click on something in a store to look at it, and I soon after receive an email that reads something like this:
“Hey! We see you were looking at something really cool back there! Come take another look!”
Now this is just wrong. If I wanted to be followed around a store, so to speak, by a pushy clerk looking over my shoulder, I would mask-it-up and head to the mall.
STOP LOOKING AT ME! I often yell at my computer.
It always causes my dogs to glance up at me. But then they decide they don’t care—because it’s not like I’m being attacked or anything. So they go back to sleep.
It’s like online stores have turned into Santa: they see me when I’m shopping; they know when I haven’t bought.
Creeps. Me. Out.
And their idea of “cookies” just isn’t the same either…
God forbid if I actually buy something. For some reason, this communicates to stores that I haven’t bought enough of that one item. So all the ads on my email, social media, etc. keep popping up showing me—wait for it—what I’ve already bought in the first place!
I already bought it. Why would I need it again? And I know I bought it. I mean, I may forget why I walk into a room sometimes, but I know whom I’ve bought what for.
Usually…
The weirdest thing about online shopping is not them knowing what I’ve left or even what I’ve bought.
It’s when I simply think of something. And I really do mean that I’ve only thought about it. I haven’t mentioned it to my husband or a friend or even out loud in my home office in front of the aforementioned sleeping dogs.
I just think of something…and sometimes it starts showing up in my ads.
They need to stop…right now. Otherwise, I will be forced to wrap my head with tinfoil and run off to the mall.
At least it would give the other shoppers something to laugh about.
Michele “Wojo” Wojciechowski, when she’s not starting to wonder if the tinfoil around the head thing might work with online shopping, writes “Wojo’s World®” from Baltimore. She’s also the author of the award-winning book Next Time I Move, They’ll Carry Me Out in a Box. You can connect with Wojo on Facebook or on Twitter.Did you know that Wojo has a newsletter? It’s full of fun stories, facts, and contests. And she won’t spam you because she doesn’t know how, and it’s bad Karma. Email her at Wojo@WojosWorld.com to subscribe.
I love this story. I really dislike being stalked online by ads from places I have clicked on also, the tinfoil sounds like a great idea, may be even a new fashion statement. Thanks for the laugh, I really needed it.