It’s not my fault, all this shopping. My doctors have been telling me for years to watch out, look out for the warning signs of erratic behavior, gambling, promiscuity, and excessive shopping. Some patients have gone bankrupt, lost their homes, their spouses, everything.
It’s the meds they tell me, side effects.
I’m keeping my eyes open I tell my doctors. Then one doctor glances down at my purse. Then takes a quick peek at my shoes, skirt, blouse, sweater, scarf, coat, handbag, all perfectly put together. I eye her down like a black girl from the projects. She turns away.
“I do not have a problem.” I respond.
“Have you purchased anything you couldn’t afford?” One doctor ask.
“Yes,” I reply. “My children.”
“Any unusual sexual activity?” Was the next question.
“At this point any sexual activity would be unusual.”
“Are you in debt?”
Leaving the hospital I stop at Goodwill. Just to look. Relax a little from my doctor appointment. I give myself fifteen minutes and a $25.00 spending limit, which I think is pretty good. Yesterday I only spent a little more but I purchased two coats , J Crew. Two J Crew coats for $20.00 bucks. You would never know it by the looks of these coats.
I’m not looking for anything in particular. I would be very happy finding a t-shirt or a good book for one dollar, of course if you find something like that, then you have to keep looking, maybe just spend five dollars more. Who knows what you will find.
Like that Dooney and Burke bag I found for $4.99. Oh my goodness I was so nervous they were not going to let me buy it for so cheap, but no one noticed that I was robbing them blind so I reached down to the bottom of my bag trying to dig up five bucks.
My fifteen minutes is up but I just found some pillow cases and a comforter, so I will quickly run upstairs to see if there’s anything else that might match the comforter. Then I will run home before the kids are out of school.
This isn’t to much of a problem. Maybe a little problem that I can work out myself. My sister thinks it’s a problem but I ask her how she can possibly see past the storage bin of lipsticks she’s constantly sorting through.
She calls me Vicky.
“Vicky, you bought a piano.”
“For $75 bucks!” “Maybe the kids want to learn?”
“Not really mom.” My daughter chimes in.
“Shut up!” I say.
“I’m not going to those meetings. I will stop on my own.”
“Mom you’re so dramatic.”
“Remind me to return all your stuff.”
I throw on my coat and sneakers. I need to think about this. But maybe before they close I can run down just to see if they have a piano bench so I can sit down and teach myself Bach or Beethoven. I will surprise my sister one night with a little mini concert called, “Kiss those lipsticks goodbye.”