As I write this, I am sitting at a high school cafeteria table on a Saturday morning with two of my sons whom I am willing to bet are just as bored as I am. One of them is hiding under the table. The other is laying on the booth seat counting the number of lights in the ceiling (70 total by his count).
My other son is with Mommy, who is walking up and down the makeshift aisles in the cafeteria, looking for deals on “pre-loved” clothing donated by other parents. Mommy lives for events like these, which might be why such sales are labeled “Mother’s Exchange.” Indeed, the majority of the clientele appear to be mothers who spend their school days on Pinterst and looking for ways to be thrifty.
Me, I’m just along for the ride. I don’t shop – at least not on the level of my wife. If I want something, I don’t shop; I go get it. In and out. I could make my way through Mall of America in 45 minutes. I can typically look at a selection of products and know right away if any of them interest me.
Which drives my wife nuts because she is the exact opposite. She enjoys the hunt. She’ll shop until close if she could (and has), just on the off chance that she may dig up a great deal on something. By the time I’m done getting whatever it is I came to get, she’s just getting started….and I wind up simply walking behind her for the next hour or so.
Which is what leads me to this cafeteria booth. It’s not comfy, and it’s not really all that spacious, but I can sit. I won’t be bugging the missus, who can shop to her little bargain-hunting heart’s content.
Now the record store is another story….