I lost an earing, and my alarm clock fell off the shelf, to its’ final death. It was time to go shopping. When my boyfriend arrived last night, I asked him after dinner if we could go shopping to replace said items. A trip to the mall is always sort of EXCITING for me, especially since I rarely go to the mall these days unless I have to.
I pretty much hate the mall, but it is getting better. Why? I feel like I am always getting ripped off, I tend to discourage myself from buying from large corporations, and the masses of teeny boppers usually drive me insane. There’s not much to like about the mall, unless I score a superb deal.
First stop: jewelry. One of my favorite jewelers was having a MEGA sale, so the boy and I scored on some future birthday presents, and some little goodies for myself. I found some great earrings for my second piercing (I leave them in 24/7) and a few extras. I love a good deal, and the store is independently owned. Score!
After that, we made our way to Sears to look at alarm clocks. I was hoping that in the bazillion years since I last had to purchase a clock radio that there would be some improvements. Since I do not own an IPOD (I’m a PC, NOT a Mac), the options for clock radios are pretty, well, pathetic. Literally, clock radio design has not changed since the 1980’s. They’re boxy, with the bright red digitalized numbers and the typical 5 buttons with a massive snooze. I REQUIRED a massive snooze button.
Boring. So, being the cheapy I am, I picked up the $9.99 special. I figured if they’re going to refuse to redesign clock radios, then I’m going to get the most outdated looking one available, and I did not fail myself.
Then came checkout. Yes, there is a point. Sears apparently has a new discount card-surprised? I know you’re not, because EVERY corporation now has a discount card which has now left my once bare keychain loaded with cards to purchase pet products, groceries and now tools all at a discount. Oh, and since Sears now owns BigK, hey, now there’s another “savings”. She asked me for my last name and phone number. I gave it to her. She said, “Ok, just look at the screen and tell me if the information is correct.” Ok, no biggy.
Name: Kevin Boitson
Address: ___ College Ave, Lancaster, Pa.
Phone: (717) ___-0070.
Only the alternate number was correct. The name? He was gone. The address? Now rented to another couple, another family creating this life. The phone number, his special “007” phone number that I loved was now owned by a girl (I know becaused I called one time just to see). The products he bought? Tools for his HVAC job, one in particular, a multi-meter that continually broke that my brother now has. One I gave to my brother since my husband is DEAD.
No, Miss, that information is not correct. Name is now Brenda. Address is different. There is no longer an alternate telephone number. Just me.
Brenda this is a very sad entry, but one I’m sure the loved ones that remain deal with daily. It’s nearly impossible to erase someone from our lives. They pop up every so often as reminders… The part of this story that made me nearly tear up at work, and I know I’ve said before big bearded men should not cry at work, was the last two lines. I’m not sure why but the concept of not having an alternate number pulled on something inside me…
My thoguhts are with you today.