Impulse Shopping
February 1st 2010 21:00
Photo by Tsuzuki26. Used in accordance with the terms of Wikimedia Commons’ GNU Free Documentation License, Version 1.2 or any later version published by the Free Software Foundation; with no Invariant Sections, no Front-Cover Texts, and no Back-Cover Texts.
My sister and I think we need to find a new hobby as we spend all our free time shopping. There would be nothing wrong with that if it wasn’t for the fact our wallets seem to be getting smaller and smaller. That said, we rarely impulse buy which is a good thing.
Then came one Friday when my sister told me she wasn’t coming shopping with me as she had made other plans. I spent the following morning shopping on my own when my sister called to say she was meeting a friend in Chatswood and did I want a lift?
Now that Borders in the city has closed and the Bondi Junction store doesn’t seem to stock Cat Fancy magazine any more, I jumped at the chance. After my sister dropped me off, I headed straight for Borders’ Chatswood store. There, I found a book that was full of odd facts about felines. I spent the next hour trying to decide whether or not to get it. The trouble was it had a large black texta mark on the bottom of the book. I was not sure if I wanted to pay full price for a damaged book. And, as my sister later on said, “How many cat books do you need? You don’t even have a cat but you keep buying books on how to look after them.”
Lord knows how much longer I would have spent trying to decide when my sister called to say that her friend suddenly had to go home and did I want a lift back into the city? I thought it would be rude to keep my sister waiting so I told her where to meet me.
When she saw me she could tell I was thinking about a book. “Why don’t you go back to have another look? I’ll wait for you. Ask the manager if she will give you a discount on the book.”
Not wanting to keep her waiting, I decided to go home and think about it, in case it turned out to be an impulse purchase. I then spent the rest of the night thinking about the book.
The next day I went on to Amazon to see if I could get a pristine copy of this book. It turned out it was out of print. Bugger it, I thought, and caught the train to Chatswood. I told the girl at the checkout about the black texta mark on the book and she asked her manager, who offered me a discount.
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