Shopping on steroids with Ann Taylor and Josh Groban
It’s usually around this time that I start thinking about taking the cover off the grill. And as it turns out, I should have thought a little harder about doing just that during the most recent holiday weekend.
Instead, I once again succumbed to what’s become an annual tradition at our house: the holiday shopping spree.
My shopping trips have been a regular source of material over the years in this space. And the routine hasn’t really evolved that much at all: I go, I schlep the bags, I try to finG D EHnFK WR IDOO DVOHHS on. And I whine and moan and complain — all to myself, of course. It’s not good strategy to complain out loud.
But this year there was a bit of a twist: Instead of just being The Blonde Accountant’s chauffeur and schlepper, I was The Man Friday for TBA, Older Daughter, Younger Daughter and Daughter of Blonde Accountant.
That is what’s known as “Shopping on Steroids Day” at the Limerick Outlet Mall. (I refuse to call my shopping nightmare by its proper name, the Philadelphia Outlet Mall, because as folks around here know, Limerick is nowhere near Philadelphia.)
When I announced my shopping plans that morning to the Facebook crowd, I was encouraged by several “friends” to offer a play-by-play of my day. See, my pals on Facebook seem to enjoy my play-by-play accounts, which up to this point have mostly been limited to prom nights and teen parties at my house where I detail my contempt for the knuckleheaded jamokes that mope about, ogle my stepdaughter, eat my food and demonstrate poor aim in my powder room.
“Shopping on Steroids Day” provided another such opportunity at some crack reporting of a nonevent, which in this instance we’ll call “Diary of a Poor, Unfortunate Soul.” To wit:
9:50 a.m. - “Outlet Mall Breaking News: The women literally ran from the parking lot to start shopping, knocking down old ladies and running over baby carriages to get to the Ann Taylor store. (Oh, expletive.)”
9:53 a.m. - “Outlet Mall Breaking News (OMBN): “Found a bench outside the Ann Taylor store. Even odds on whether I freeze to GHDWK RU VunEuUn Py EDOG VSRW fiUVW. (Expletive.)”
10:04 a.m. - “OMBN: Chilly wind blowing sideways and right up my skirt (I cleaned that up for print), which we all know makes for a more pleasant shopping experience. Wish the umps would call this game. (Expletive.)”
10:07 a.m. - “OMBN: The chilly wind has forced me back inside the Ann Taylor store, where the air conditioning is on and there is no place to sit. (Expletive.)”
10:35 a.m. - “OMBN: Ann Taylor coupon not valid for another three days (unexpected rookie mistake by The Blonde Accountant). So I had to open an Ann Taylor credit card account to get the extra 15 percent off. All together now: Oh for crying out loud, Mike. (Expletive.)”
10:36 a.m. - “OMBN: Who the heck is Ann Taylor anyway and why would I want to have her credit card in my wallet? (Expletive.)”
10:45 a.m. - “OMBN: On deck, the Loft. The good news is that I can use my new Ann Taylor account to get an additional 15 percent off at the Loft. I can’t tell you how happy that makes me. And Ann Taylor. (Expletive.)”
11:15 a.m. - “OMBN: Banana Republic on deck. I gotta use the restroom. Apparently there is no time for that. I’ll bet Ann Taylor has time to use the restroom, in between counting all the money I’ve given her. (Expletive.)”
11:30 a.m. - “OMBN: The Nike store was a nuthouse, but at leastold Dad got a new pair of kicks. Tired, broke and hungry. Ann Taylor should at least buy me lunch. (Expletive.)”
1:40 p.m. - “OMBN: Shopping is over. I needed a dump truck just to get all the bags to the car. And then, the carload of women chose to listen to a Josh Groban CD on the way home. (Expletive, expletive, expletive.)”
2:30 p.m. - Breaking News Alert: Lunch. Ann Taylor did not pay. Guess who did? Hint: It wasn’t Josh Groban either. (Expletive.)
4:15 p.m. - Breaking News Alert: There is a big old dad passed out on the couch in the living room. His wallet has fallen out of his pocket and his credit cards have snuck out the back door because they refuse to inhabit the same wallet at the forthcoming Ann Taylor credit card. (Expletive.)
, VKRuOG KDYH VWuFN wLWK Py fiUVW instinct and just taken the cover off the dadgummed grill. (Expletive.)
Mike Morsch is executive editor of Montgomery Media and author of the book, “Dancing in My Underwear: The Soundtrack of My Life.” He can be reached by calling 215-542-0200, ext. 415 or by email at email@example.com. This column can also be found at www.montgomerynews.com.
Outta Leftfield Mike Morsch