Drum roll please! For the first time since my son was born 3 1/2 years ago, I managed to find my way back into a drug store. I know, I know, amazing accomplishment. But something about the narrow aisles and tons of flashy small products within easy reach seem less amenable to shopping with a little one in tow.
I also tend to shun these stores because in my head, they are more expensive than my beloved Target (replete with its Starbucks hotties), but I have friends who regularly ace out truly good deals at CVS, Rite-Aid and other local drug stores, so I’m not sure this is really true. As soon as I can get my sale papers and coupons in order, count me in for some major drug store scores.
Source
There was absolutely no scary smiling lady
to help me navigate through the
ginormous band-aid selection.
In any case, I made it within the hallowed walls last week and set to work. I had some specific items I needed to purchase (more about this next week), and it was easy enough to find them. The problem came after my list was all checked off. I found myself standing in the middle of the store, surround by a bajillion things that I maybe needed. Worse, I did not have the kids along to temper my fantasies. You know how it goes–if you’ve got the kids along, you fly through your errands faster than the speed of light in hopes of staving off temper tantrums. Without kids, suddenly there is the freedom to shop. There are possibilities.
I started to get confused. What did I need? Wasn’t there stuff I had been meaning to purchase for months but kept forgetting to pick up? Should I stock up up on stuff? What stuff? Dang, that is an awesome price!
Everything started to get blurry as the potentialities overwhelmed me. Abandoning clear thought, one product alone pressed its way to the forefront of my mind. MASCARA. I needed mascara. I definitely needed mascara.
And this is where I got completely lost. Do you have any idea how hard it is to buy mascara in a drug store? There are so many kinds, so many brands. I swear the bright colors started flashing at me and swirling in front of my eyes. I’m now pretty sure they pump hallucinogenics through the air vents in the mascara section.
I have no idea what happened. I know things ended up in my basket. I have no idea what they were. They may or may not have been mascara. Somehow I made it to the counter to check out. Somehow my inner savings fanatic conjured herself up and made me sign up for the store rewards card so I could save about $5,000 on the said merchandise. Small victory.
Let’s be honest: the drug store won. I bought a bunch of crap I never even would have considered through my neat online ordering processes. And the store employed an incredibly effective battle technique: disarm and confuse your enemies. The whole visit left me reeling and my judgement spinning. If someone had approached me in the parking lot and tried to sell me a questionably house-trained hyena, I probably would have said yes.
Oh yes, score one for the drug store. A big one.
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