FORT KENT, Maine — People who know me well know one thing above all else: It’s a good idea to never take me shopping.
That is, of course, unless you want to be reminded what it’s like to shop with a balky toddler on the verge of a tantrum.
And, while I have never actually held my breath or stomped my feet in the middle of a store aisle, I have to confess the thought has crossed my mind more than once.
That’s because while a great many of my friends actually enjoy going into a store to peruse whatever is perusable inside, the device to measure the shortness of my attention span for shopping has yet to be invented.
Which is why I do a great deal of shopping online from the comfort of my recliner and why my friends for the most part support that.
But every so often the need arises for something that can’t be shipped directly to my door and which requires an actual foray into a brick-and-mortar store.
Over the years, my friends have devised some pretty clever strategies to deal with my somewhat petulant behavior when accompanying me on these treks.
For instance, Penny — a super shopper if there ever was one — employs the “diversion” method.
Some years back we found ourselves in Freeport — or, as she calls it, “The Promised Land” — and she convinced me to go to an outdoor clothing company outlet store in which she had earlier seen a blue shirt she deemed perfect for me.
Amid much eye rolling and exaggerated sighing, I agreed.
Within the first five minutes of our being there, three things happened in rapid succession — she showed me the blue shirt and I loved it; she found several other similar shirts for me to consider; and I became bored out of my wits.
Penny immediately steered me over to a display of bicycling gear and plunked me down where I was able to entertain myself looking at brightly colored cycling helmets, gloves, shoes and jerseys while she brought items over for me to consider.
The only thing missing was a coloring book and crayons.
On another trip to Freeport — this time with my friend Kim — the “professional shopper” strategy was put in play.
I really did need a good down winter coat and even I understand that something that is going to cost that much really should be examined in person and tried on.
So with Kim — who also is a savvy shopper — I walked into an outdoor gear store and instantly spotted a blue jacket that I liked. Heck, it was even on sale.
Feeling quite proud, I pulled it off the rack and headed to the cashier.
“What are you doing?” Kim asked.
“Buying my new jacket,” I said, somewhat defensively, clutching it to my chest.
“The first one you see? No, that’s not how it works,” she said, wresting it away from my grip.
How it worked, apparently, was going to several stores to try on several jackets to make sure I got the best one at the best price. Or until I entered a zombie-like coma. Whatever came first.
Noting that the zombie-coma was winning out, Kim suggested we head back to our hotel to consider the jacket options.
Once there, and I had made my decision, she got me settled on the couch with a book and a drink and headed out with my credit card to buy the jacket and a few other items we had stumbled across.
Kim also is, however, a fan of online shopping. Especially in fashion emergency situations.
When I was going to bicycle in Italy a few years back, she volunteered to help me pack so I could get everything I needed for two weeks abroad into one suitcase and a carry-on.
“Put out all your clothing options, and I’ll help you pick what makes sense,” were my instructions.
When she came in and took stock of the multiple shirts and pairs of pants draped around my living room, she had only one question:
“Exactly how many khaki pants and blue shirts does one person need?”
A bit of online exploring and a few mouse clicks later, an expanded and more colorful travel wardrobe was headed my way.
More recently, it has become apparent that my beloved house dog Corky the Shusky has not been unaffected by my shopping aversion.
My friend Julie and I took her with us to Bangor on a recent trip and, turns out, not unlike Julie, Kim and Penny, Corky is a shopper.
We took her into PetSmart where the clerks fawned over her and she was allowed to pick out one treat and one toy. Julie took her into the grooming aisle, and the two of them had a lengthy discussion over which would be the best brush for her while I wandered off to look at gerbils.
She was in doggy nirvana while I was left feeling like the worst mom ever.
But there you have it. I will never, ever be a fan of shopping.
I know it, my friends know it, and now Corky knows it.
On the bright side, all of you out there looking to take part in the annual Black Friday start to the Christmas shopping season can take heart — I certainly won’t be out there and in your way.
I suspect I’ll be inside somewhere. Maybe with a coloring book.
Julia Bayly of Fort Kent is an award-winning writer and photographer, who writes part time for the Bangor Daily News. Her column appears here every other Friday. She can be reached by email at jbayly@bangordailynews.com.
