shopaholic

I believe that most people are familiar with the adage, "stay alive, don't drink and drive" but are they familiar with, "have a happy ending. no drinking and spending"? I think not. And how clever was it of the Ted Baker store to ply me with a Bombay and cranberry, an offer of 10% off $300 or more and an entry to win a $500 spending "spree". Considering a blouse and a pant added up to more than $300, I'd hardly call $500 a spree, but let's not quibble.

After work I walked the few short blocks to Grant Street and entered the store. (Did you hear that? "ahhhhhhhhhhhh." That was the sound of the angels singing as I stood at the gate of my shopping Eden). I received my "free" drink - yes, free, but I paid for it later, and then I was greeted by my personal shopper, Storm. (THOUGHT BUBBLE: Okay, not a great name for a store clerk. Matter of fact, I believe that had she failed as a personal shopper, she would have been relegated to pole dancing simply by virtue of her name.) But I digress. Storm is lovely and to her benefit, I walk in and she greets me by name, asks about John, reminds me of my size, and pretends she's my BFF when I'm trying on clothes. Oh, and that free drink - well, it just doesn't take that much to get me "tipsy". And so I shopped. And shopped. And shopped. With absolutely no intention of forking over one red-cent, I handed over my credit card with wild abandon. "Curses Bombay Gin! Curses Storm! Curses Alison" (she's the colleague who first introduced me to drunken shopping) You are all to blame for my failings. No! I will not take responsibility for my actions. I will blame them on as many people, things, and circumstances as I can.

And so I walked happily, tipsily, down Market Street to catch my bus, shopping bag firmly in hand, a few hundred dollars poorer. But here's the thing, I can stop any time I want to--really--I can.