
Walgreens is a magical place. There is always something you need at Walgreens. When you crave a quick pick-me-up, whether it's lipstick, double sided tape, Dr. Scholl's inner soles or a refill of Ativan, a trip to Walgreens always delivers.
This is true every day of the week. And then there are certain weeks of the month when it's especially true. I speak of Period Shopping.
You know. When you go in ostensibly to pick up a simple box of tampons and whatever ancillary equipment you prefer (panty liners, Monistat, or god-forbid-but-someone-buys-it "feminine" spray.) But before you put such openly vaginal items in your basket, you need cover purchases. Like a magazine. And shampoo. Shell pink nailpolish to have at your desk for emergencies. Gum.
Once you establish a basket base, you add in the box of pussy pops and go on your merry way. En route to the register you walk down the candy aisle. That's where the psychosis sets in. Your mind squeals, "CANDY!" Full size candy admits defeat in the fight against bigger jeans, so you pick up a bag of mini Twix bars. For the office candy jar. Plus a tub of Red Vines, for variety.
You notice tension flooding out of your body. Shopping feels good! So you turn right, up the random electronics aisle, instead of left to the cashier. You stock up on photo frames, blank DVDs and Excedrin PM, which it pays to buy before you need it. You select light bulbs, leisurely.
Anywhere between $50 to $100 later, you stagger out under the weight of three bulging white plastic bags, a discreet brown paper wrapped box of tampons forgotten at the bottom of one of them.
Walgreens knows this. Why do you think they organize the aisles the way they do? And we love them for it. I feel better just knowing they are around every corner, that flushed feeling only a credit card swipe away.
Note that this same phenomena occurs at Costco, with a tally closer to $500. You'll also walk out with a box of tampons big enough to supply Beaver Academy for a year, which is a good thing for certain ladies who have particularly heavy days.
Shop happy.
2 comments:
You're full of magic...this post is for a shopping trip that will happen tomorrow. Either that or you live in the future. Sweet.
I've been cleaning my studio for the past three hours. I unassembled some furniture so I could get it really clean, and then reassemble it. So would you mind picking up some Comet for me and those wipe-y things?
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