Cherry Delight

Posted on January 12, 2005 2 Comments

This weekend I went a post-holiday mini shopping spree at Gap. It started innocently enough – I went because I had a gift card from Old Navy, which is supposed to be redeemable at Gap, Banana and Old N. (all owned by the same company). I double-checked with the clerk, who told me the gift certificate was valid, and in I went.

I immediately began shopping the candy-colored racks; the entire store was on sale at bargain basement prices of 50 percent off. I pulled in five fabulous outfits to the dressing room (OK, five completely average outfits that looked nothing on me like they do on SJP). I checked the price tags, tallied how much I could go over the card, fussed over details like stitching and hem lines and settled on four items I loved: a new pair of black work pants marked down from $60 to $24, a jean skirt with a tie belt for $12 and two long-sleeve tee-shirts in bright colors that are worn layered over each other for $10 each. (As I have said numerous times on this site, yes, I am a little obsessive when it comes to shopping and budgeting.)

I waited in the snaking checkout line, listening to teenage gum-chewers in dirty pink Uggs chat about their evening plans on their so-cool cell phones. Suburban Moms bumped me on all sides with oversized bags and even larger egos. Finally, upon arriving at the cashier’s desk, the friendly store manager began ringing my new clothes up with a smile, apologetically easing my frustrations about the line.

“We’ll just get you on your way,” she said. “These gift cards are great.”

Swipe one of the gift card yielded no sale. Swipe two and the computer starting blaring like an ambulance. More apologies.

“I’m sorry, but this only works at Old Navy.” Her STORE MANAGER tag stands out like a beacon in the night. She is the authority. “The credit cards work here, but not the gift cards.”

After double checking and some fumbling between both of us about how the associate assured me the card was redeemable, we both stare at the on-screen total. “Sixty-three dollars and fourty-seven cents. Do you have another form of payment?”

For a moment, I could see myself removing items from the desk one at a time as the teenagers in Uggs rolled their eyes and the suburban moms sighed out loud and the manager continued staring at me, asking for payment. Instead, I tried staring her down.

Alas, she knew I’d crumble. Standing there, staring at the STORE MANAGER tag, I realized that I’d already bought the clothes. I’d already planned the occasions when I’d wear them, how my new boots would look so good with that skirt, how the shirts looked so cute with the pants. I handed over my debit card and walked out of the store, incredously, delighted at my new purchase. I did not think about the gift card weighing down my wallet, or about the money I could have put away for savings – only about what I would wear the next day.

Here’s the kicker: I did wear those clothes the next day and thought I looked darn good. But at dinner that night I was chomping on cherries and bit into one with my mouth open, causing the thing to literally gush all over my new shirts. That freak accident ruined BOTH SHIRTS! That’s right, little red staining drops of cherry all over. That whole neurotic hassle at Gap was for nothing.

For those of you keeping track, that’s $63.47 towards stupid purchases, $20-something of it I will never wear again. The year of my demise, 2005, continues to rock on.

Category: Old Posts

Comments