Open Thread: Retail Therapy – Senior Planet from AARP
Retail therapy used to be my indulgence, and I embraced it wholeheartedly. I once came across a story about Jackie Kennedy, who would buy five of her favorite items in various colors. Inspired, I found myself working just across the street from Bloomingdale’s at the time. I walked in and bought five hats (remember those?). I kept them in my office, wearing a different one each week on my way home. My husband either didn’t notice or wisely chose to remain silent about my new collection.
Fast forward to today, and retail therapy has taken on a new meaning. After even the simplest shopping trip, I often find myself needing to lie down in a dark room and consult a professional. The experience has transformed dramatically.
True Crime in the Snack Aisle
Just last month, while waiting to pay at a national convenience store in my neighborhood, chaos erupted. A disheveled man burst in, knocked over three store displays, evaded a burly employee, and dashed out with bags of cookies. My instinct was to hide in the shampoo aisle—after all, this guy clearly had other priorities than haircare. Who knew if he might target a customer next?
Time for a Change
I’ve also noticed that many young cashiers seem to struggle with basic math. When I hand them cash instead of a card, they groan, pulling out their phones to use a calculator or asking a coworker for assistance.
I can’t help but feel a bit sorry for them; they’ve missed out on a childhood rite of passage—shopping independently. I remember the thrill of going to the local store, barely able to reach the wooden candy stand at John’s on Third Street. Handing him a dime for a silver foil-wrapped Crunch bar or a Devil Dog felt so grown-up. Counting out my five pennies in change was a small victory. Today, swiping a credit card or waving a phone over a terminal just doesn’t compare.
Where?
Just yesterday, I encountered a young lady who insisted I take an item without a price tag to the scanner for a price check, despite the fact that it was secured with an unbreakable plastic lock.
On top of that, there are the inevitable line cutters, toothpaste locked behind plastic doors, panhandlers waiting outside, and the constant frustration of out-of-stock items. Not to mention the opened packages on store shelves, likely sampled by someone hoping to snag a free taste. Who wouldn’t need therapy after such a shopping ordeal?
And don’t even get me started on the discrepancies between product images online and what actually arrives at your doorstep.
YOUR TURN
But that’s just my experience. How have your shopping trips changed over time? What has driven you to seek out a therapist after a shopping excursion?
Virge Randall is Senior Planet’s Managing Editor. She is also a freelance culture reporter who seeks out hidden gems and unsung (or undersung) treasures for Straus Newspapers. Virge frequently writes about Old School New York City and performs at open mic readings throughout the city. Send Open Thread suggestions to editor@seniorplanet.org.
Retail therapy used to be my indulgence, and I embraced it wholeheartedly. I once came across a story about Jackie Kennedy, who would buy five of her favorite items in various colors. Inspired, I found myself working just across the street from Bloomingdale’s at the time. I walked in and bought five hats (remember those?). I kept them in my office, wearing a different one each week on my way home. My husband either didn’t notice or wisely chose to remain silent about my new collection.
Fast forward to today, and retail therapy has taken on a new meaning. After even the simplest shopping trip, I often find myself needing to lie down in a dark room and consult a professional. The experience has transformed dramatically.
True Crime in the Snack Aisle
Just last month, while waiting to pay at a national convenience store in my neighborhood, chaos erupted. A disheveled man burst in, knocked over three store displays, evaded a burly employee, and dashed out with bags of cookies. My instinct was to hide in the shampoo aisle—after all, this guy clearly had other priorities than haircare. Who knew if he might target a customer next?
Time for a Change
I’ve also noticed that many young cashiers seem to struggle with basic math. When I hand them cash instead of a card, they groan, pulling out their phones to use a calculator or asking a coworker for assistance.
I can’t help but feel a bit sorry for them; they’ve missed out on a childhood rite of passage—shopping independently. I remember the thrill of going to the local store, barely able to reach the wooden candy stand at John’s on Third Street. Handing him a dime for a silver foil-wrapped Crunch bar or a Devil Dog felt so grown-up. Counting out my five pennies in change was a small victory. Today, swiping a credit card or waving a phone over a terminal just doesn’t compare.
Where?
Just yesterday, I encountered a young lady who insisted I take an item without a price tag to the scanner for a price check, despite the fact that it was secured with an unbreakable plastic lock.
On top of that, there are the inevitable line cutters, toothpaste locked behind plastic doors, panhandlers waiting outside, and the constant frustration of out-of-stock items. Not to mention the opened packages on store shelves, likely sampled by someone hoping to snag a free taste. Who wouldn’t need therapy after such a shopping ordeal?
And don’t even get me started on the discrepancies between product images online and what actually arrives at your doorstep.
YOUR TURN
But that’s just my experience. How have your shopping trips changed over time? What has driven you to seek out a therapist after a shopping excursion?
Virge Randall is Senior Planet’s Managing Editor. She is also a freelance culture reporter who seeks out hidden gems and unsung (or undersung) treasures for Straus Newspapers. Virge frequently writes about Old School New York City and performs at open mic readings throughout the city. Send Open Thread suggestions to editor@seniorplanet.org.
