Small Blue Box, Giant Black Box

Sometimes even people like myself, who 'don't do shopping', get to go shopping. Since Debby has a holiday birthday, we are careful to pick our spots when planning our shopping spree, so as to avoid the crowds. Monday morning cooperated with a rainstorm; we arrive at South Coast Plaza before 10AM and park right next to the mall entrance. Upscale SoCal folk don't do early and don't do rain.

Inside, the Mall is practically empty, as if they had opened the place just for us. This is actually nice. We wander around window shopping in all the fancy stores with European names and 5 digit price tags on very small items. It is amazing in these economic times (or any times for that matter) that consumers can so highly value a little bling-bling. One could not help but feel 'out of it' when confronted with so many stores catering to the young, hip, rich crowd, none of which describes us.

We had gotten a little exercise by the time we reach our destination, the store with the small blue boxes. While strolling among the display cases, I hear a clerk ask another patron his budget, to which he responds with no delay 'hundreds'. The other answer would have been thousands, I guess. Anyway, I see the store is divided into these two budget choices, and we find our way to the back. At one time we would have responded with the larger value, but being recently relegated to fixed incomes and having most all the 'stuff' we will ever want, we value sentiment over pizazz, and a great deal above all.

We are there to get a sterling necklace to match the signature silver charm bracelet that Debby received as a retirement gift from her staff (her first ever blue box). When we decide we don't like any of the displayed necklaces, the salesclerk says she thinks we would like one not on display. It is a 'designer' pendant, unusual, catches the light nicely, and has some heft that makes it hang well. The chain is the right length and we gobble it up. Debby wears it out of the store. I insist on carrying the little blue bag containing the little blue box containing the tiny blue bag. Now we can run with this crowd.

I convince Debby to follow me into a handbag store. Debby knows the name and says it's too expensive, but there in the middle are some nice bags at 40% off sale price. What's not to like? We spend 5 minutes debating color and style. I am not sure I have had a lot of influence, but Debby ends up with the one I like the best. As we check out, another patron comes to the sales clerk and asks if they have another like this one, which she really wants. The clerk doesn't think so, but will look. The sweet gets sweeter. The bag has the designer logo on the brass catch and comes in its own custom dark blue cloth bag, so I know it's appropriate for the occasion.

We stop at a cafe with a French ambience for an early lunch. There is no line. The French baguettes are gooey fresh and great served with the unsalted butter. I have the French onion soup to go with the bread. Then I surprise Debby and order a Creme Caramel that we split for desert. The crowds have arrived now. When we leave, there are lines at all the restaurants, and sharp elbows are becoming necessary to navigate the narrower passages.

We take a long hike over a bridge to get to a store that might sell my European sandal, the brand that I have used as a house slipper for many years. Their store sample is my size and style, the only one left. We gobble it up. It wasn't on sale, but being the last one made it special enough.

I score a free apple cider on the way back, and we stop briefly to hear a recorder trio play renaissance music by a 2 storey fake tree. The crowd noise makes listening hard. We buy a few other goods, then plot our escape via the same entrance we used 3 hours earlier. It hardly seems the same now.

Our exit landmark is the Sears store. An anachronism, it seems more out of place in this mall than even we do. I remember we are looking for a space heater for Debby's home office, so I ask that we run through the store. After a wild tour of the entire store, following one wrong clue after another, we find the selection totally picked over. Nothing saleable remains.

We must exit through the tool department, though. Now I am in my element and begin to drag my feet, snooping around. I spy the chop saws. I've always wanted one and I have some small projects that could definitely use one. But there are perhaps 20 models spanning a 5x price range, and I can't tell them apart. I select the third from cheapest, a 10", 15 amp Craftsman miter chopper at a sizable discount. Here is someone who normally researches once-in-a-lifetime purchases to the nth degree, making an impulse purchase. I've finally gotten into the spirit of this game. We have to go to customer pick-up, we find it easily, there is a parking space right in front, they have the saw ready when I arrive and put it in the car for me. Slick.

And now you know the story of the small blue box and the giant black box and our amazing holiday shopping spree.