more funny
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Shameon, ME: I'm guilty of peeking into other people's shopping carts, seeing what they've bought and mulling over what it means. At the Costco over the weekend, my husband and I saw a guy wheel out two cases of Heineken and two cases of adult diapers. His guess was that the guy had an infirm relative living with him, and he was drinking the Heineys to cope. My take: It was a big sports weekend, and he didn't want to get up out of his Barcalounger to go to the bathroom.
Anyway, I realized that I do this because I suffer from "cart shame." It may have stemmed from the time (again, at Costco) when I ran into a vice president of my division with not a thing in my cart except the 'til-menopause box of Tampax. He appeared not to notice, but I was horrified.
There are times when I stop at the store to grab a couple of things I really need; say, a couple of cucumbers and some Vaseline. But, of course, I can't go to the checkout with those items and risk being the butt of a bag-boy laff-fest. So I toss in a couple of other random items, even if I don't really need them, like Mini-Wheats and hair elastics. Or salad mix and Tide. Whatever will dilute the effect, you know?
So, am I a sick puppy?
Gene Weingarten: This is a form of neurosis I have not yet encountered! It is highly entertaining! I like the vaseline and cucumbers!
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Shopping neurosis: You haven't encountered this before? I'm afraid of seeing people I know when I'm at the store buying underwear, because they'll know I'm buying underwear. It's just as bad if I'm buying socks, because socks are near the underwear and they'll think I'm buying underwear. I'll bet it's quite common, which is why there are very few people near the underwear display.
Gene Weingarten: You have to be a girl.
I love girls.
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Shopper's Shame: I get the underwear buying shame, too! Even when I know that I could not possibly bump into anyone I know because I am in a department store in a strange city in another country, it still requires a concerted effort before I can bring myself to walk around the underwear department without trying to look as though I am confused and lost and not meant to be there. And I've only started making this effort because my face isn't expressive enough to communicate, "Well, this is a surprise! This is the last place I expected to find myself today. Though, I suppose, now that I'm here, I might causally just buy some underwear. I mean, not that I CAME here to buy underwear."
And when I'm in the supermarket, buying ready-made meals you just have to pop into the oven, I feel I am being judged for being so immature and unwomanly.
Thank you, Gene. It's such a relief to confess at last.
Gene Weingarten: I am guessing there is not a man on Earth who suffers shopping cart shame. I mean, if there is, I'd like to hear from him.
I would happily stroll up to the counter with a watermelon, a hand drill, KY Jelly, and a copy of Penthouse.
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