Grocery store or drug store? Specialty shop or homemade? The age old problem that clouds the male mind at certain times of the year can cause a person to hate the holidays, any holiday.
Who elected the board of holiday Gestapo and just where was this rule book that must be so guarded that even Indiana Jones could never find? If this publication were sold on Amazon, the numbers sold would be astronomical!
I knew it was considered a holiday, but where were the cards? The drug store had been no help, all I acquired there was a slight cold. Plus for some reason, my asking about card selection struck the store associate as a funny request. Once she stopped giggling, she did show me to some mark down items that she seemed to think I might like. Purchasing some over-the-counter supplies for the cold, cough drops, then spying the marked down rack of last season’s party goods, and not to mention I was a little hungry at the checkout counter, I ended up spending much more than the cost of a card.
I scratched the drug store off of my list of possible suspects to be my supplier of the holiday card I so needed!
Deciding to hike to the next contestant of “Find That Card” turned out to be an even larger disappointment. Walmart… the store I consider the purgatory of shoppers, or at least in my religion of shopping anyway.
The trip across the parking lot, dodging “buggies” as we say in the south, makes for an obstacle course I just do not want to endure on the day before a holiday, but that elusive card still haunts my mind’s eye like a Holy Grail so I press on towards the prize. Or so I thought.
Selecting the “buggy” with the most wobbly wheel possible, I whisked down the isles trying to bypass the family reunions blocking traffic flow and headed toward the card section where I just knew American Greeting would become my best friend.
Birthday cards, wedding cards, sympathy cards, all looked great, but where was my section? An end cap maybe? The store associate I cornered did not seem happy that I was holding my iPhone flashlight in her face and began to interrogate her as to where the cards had been hidden. I was about to start the water drip torture to get her to talk when the store manager politely asked me to leave.
The nerve! Walmart received not a dime of my money. Well, not unless you count the few items I did pick up in the grocery department, plus, they did have some Honey Crisp Apples on sale, but not a dime did I give Walmart!
Scratch Walmart off the list and on to the specialty shop. The local card and gift store that surely held my happiness in its possession.
The bell over the door jingled as I opened the large glass door and childhood memories came flooding back to me as this happened to be the store my parents had taken me to for visits with Santa before I became closed minded and thought I had to listen to those kids at school when they said I was a baby to believe.
I took a deep breath and all the same smells still filled the air. The mixture of cinnamon from cupid, the pumpkin spice from Mr. Turkey, the gumdrop’s sugary mint from Santa, they all welcomed back wonderful memories of my childhood.
Pushing aside the stroll down memory lane and having an acute awareness that this place was where I should have come first, the place where memories are made, trinkets are bought for graduations, weddings and special occasions. Yes, this Mecca held my card in it’s bosom with love and care, waiting for me, calling to me like the siren’s song to the sailors.
The glass figurines were cool to the touch when I examined several as I walked through the store towards the back where the cards were racked. Should I just get a trinket instead of a card? A Hummel to catch dust or get broken with the swipe of the cats paw in the night? I knew better, but smiled a little at the thought of the cat getting into trouble for trashing a treasure.
A Whitman’s Sampler! Of course candy was always a hit and chocolate could do no wrong. Wait, Weight Watchers would definitely not approve of the Sampler, but would an empty box have the same affect as one filled with those creamy filled pieces? Do I dare ask if there was such a thing as a low calorie chocolate? Moving on.
Then ahead of my sight lay the promised land. The greeting card section of the store that I had loved for years but often forgot to visit. There lay rows of gems, diamonds and pearls of wisdom, all printed on card stock of all the colors of the rainbow. A feast to my eyes. My stomach began to get nervous with the fear that maybe I had built up my expectations too high. Maybe the card, my card, did not exist except in my mind. I knew what I wanted, but just not to find it captured on paper.
Wedding announcements, no, congratulations grads, no, happy birthday Maw Maw, no… now the feeling in my stomach began to sink. I turned the corner to see what the other side of the counter held. Nothing, it was not there. My card was once again the unreachable star!
“Not finding what you are looking for?” the sales associate asked after watching me for what seemed to be hours of looking. “No,” I said with just a touch of disappointment in my voice. “Just what kind of card are you looking to find” as she walked over to where my feet were planted to the floor.
I tried to explain in great detail how I wanted that perfect, special card to celebrate the holiday that was tomorrow. “Have they all been purchased?” I asked a little sheepishly.
“No Hon, I don’t really recall that there are cards for April 1 unless you want to get a calendar.”
Now I was the one that felt like the fool!
A View From Bogaville 