Cyber-Shopping

Are you eyes red and fingers blistered from surfing for that perfect deal online?

For the next few weeks there will be links and offers no one can resist. How about some plaid golf knickers? No? How about golf club covers in the shape of animal heads? Your wife needs a mop. Throw in a broom and you will be a hero for Christmas day. You can hide it in the closet because no one looks in there.

The little ones want whatever is popular that day, but you’ll fill their stockings with socks, a new toothbrush, and some deodorant. It is OK because the fascination in the gifting is tearing open the paper to find a treasure. Don’t worry for they are too busy downloading games on your credit card.

Now not a big shopper (anymore) for I think I have more than enough, I want to get into the spirit. To wander to some giant hall of merchandise with frantic folks grabbing gigantic TV screens and Bluetooth speakers to go with the 100-roll pack of t-paper and some ugly dishtowels for Aunt Beth is not my dream of how to spend time. I get my adventure at the Tummy Temple and leave quickly.

Since I hadn’t expensed anything recently, I decided to buy a birthday present for myself. No guitars this year but I get online to search for some CDs. The local ‘record’ store has bins full of music to fascinate hours of detective activity trying to find that perfect gift, but usually they don’t have my unique taste.

Amazon welcomed me as a Prime Member and I went directly to what I was looking for. The prices seemed pretty high but I bought the vinyl in the last century. They even remembered my credit card number and with a few clicks, I was getting emails of estimated delivery time. Wasn’t that easy?

Having succeeded in this attempt to please myself with consumption, I remembered I never found that lawnmower. Open the second bottle of wine and dive into the adventure.

 I log on with my secret password and search “Lawn Mower”. My options are riding or gas or battery or corded and problem some I missed. Click the box and up comes the selections with descriptions and prices. Being a wish shopper I compared the features and reviews and settled on one at the right price.

Where was my ‘Add To Cart’?

Then the little window appeared in the bottom corner (like the Microsoft paperclip) and asked if I need help.

I typed the item number and asked, “How do I add this to my cart?” (Remember there is no real wire cart, just a metaphor). The person on the other end of the line was trying to be most helpful, but had to pass me on to a supervisor.

I again explained my problem and after a few minutes it seems this particular product was unavailable in my area.

I understand buying a lawnmower in the winter is like buying a snow blower in the summer.

I thanked whatever was on the other end of the line and shut down wondering why they would post something on their website that was not available (but that is another story).

The next morning I went back (if nothing else I’m persistent) and searched some of the other lawnmowers. They ALL had ‘Add To Cart’ buttons except the one I had originally chosen. Perhaps this was a communist plot? Was this a conspiracy to keep me from once a year trimming some weeds that the string trimmer didn’t get? Perhaps there was a sanction that particular model?

After this, I’ll go back, log in, and select a model of comparable price and features and ‘Add To Cart’.

Ha! There you go cyber-shopping.

Now it will just be waiting for emails and phone calls announcing approximate time-of-arrival with delays for weather and road conditions and possible wreckage with all the other delivery trucks. Free delivery is like waiting for Santa Clause. Should I put out cookies and milk?

When everything arrives and is unpacked and the mounds of cardboard stuffed into the recycle bin and the assembly instructions studied for the big exam hoping that little plastic bag of parts doesn’t have a hole in it.

By then snow will be on the ground and I’ll just pack it up in the corner waiting spring and forget where it is.

This has nothing to do with cyber-shopping but I noticed and have spoken of Christmas stocking stuffers. One of those presents is a male beard trimmer. There have been a multitude of brands filling my medicine cabinet through the years. All were well-intentioned gifts, but rarely used. The last torture machine that keep running out of juice in the middle of a shave was tossed. There will still one hand held grinder that seemed to work well, but I couldn’t find all those weird attachments to make people think you hadn’t shaved when you had just shaved to look like you hadn’t shaved.

Since this is the time of year that if I let the facial hair grow I get mistaken for St. Nick with girls wanting to sit on my lap. Little kids become enamored before the 25^th day of the month. Hoo Hoo Hoo!

Not finding all the shaving attachments for the ‘last’ razor, I picked up one that looked exactly like the one I have at home and dropped it in my cart.

Trying to be organized, I try to keep things in their proper place. All the spoons together, all the pencils lined up in the same direction and all the shaving utensils in a special drawer. Now was the time to clean out the ‘shaving drawer’.

All sorts of weird attachments to some unknown prehistoric device were found and since they didn’t fit, were put to rest.

Through the ages I’ve had every sort of devised instruments of pain to clip or pull hair from my face. Straight razors, single blade razors, multiple blade razors, rotary razors were all part of my bathroom routine. If the gouging wasn’t enough, there were tonics to splash on your injured skin to raise the ire of the banshee. Photos don’t give a good representation of the results.

Always felt for the ladies shaving their armpits and their legs and that upper lip thing and whatever the caterpillar that grows between the eyebrows.

Using the hedge trimmer, jackhammer, and circular saw, the thick plastic container to my NEW electric beard trimmer was opened. All the attachments were separated and the power cord and instruction put into a little black bag that came with it. So organized.

Then I thought about a similar black bag in another room.

Yes, it was the same items in the same black bag but not in the organized shaving items drawer.

   So now I have two-duplicate razors. I guess I could use one in each hand, but will be content that I have a backup.

Hope next year I don’t buy another one.