Scribblings of a Potential Hermitess

I went shopping this evening. I don't go shopping very often, mostly because I hate being in town, in huge, artificially lighted buildings, with mobs of scary strangers. But occasionally, I muster my courage and sally forth from my rural refuge.

I actually ended up enjoying myself this time. It makes me feel so grown-up and important to be walking around a store all by myself, making mature decisions about whether or not that pair of pants looks good on me, or how much money I can really afford to spend. Yes, yes, I know. I lead a simplistic life and find pleasure in odd things. I've been told all that before.

As I re-discovered tonight, the really difficult part about going shopping alone is remembering not to talk to myself out loud. When I'm home alone, I keep myself company by discussing everything with myself. That's not such a good idea in a public setting. I don't really want people to talk to me, but I don't want them to think I'm some sort of crazy person, either. I managed very well this evening. I browsed through Target, tried on a few clothes, and purchased an utterly adorable brown hat without freaking too many people out. I was quite proud of myself.

The weather has been more like May than November the last few days, so after I made my aforementioned purchase, I decided to sit outside and gaze at the stars while I waited for Mom to come back. This didn't work out so well, as the stars were utterly invisible behind a glaring layer of parking-lot lamps. I was a little depressed. The stars and I are very good friends, and I felt rather desolate without them. But, my thwarted attempt at star-watching was soon replaced by a successful bout of people-watching. The people were watching me, too. Apparently, it is very unusual for someone to sit on a bench outside of Target at seven o' clock at night. My courage was ebbing away, along with my body heat, so I avoided eye contact as much as possible. This did not stop one ebullient young male, however. He pulled into a parking place, leaped out of his car, and yelled "Hello there!" while waving vigorously in my direction. He then proceeded to swagger through the parking lot, displaying a vast area of boxer shorts, and doing a little squat every now and then. If this was intended to impress me, the effort fell rather flat.

Target and Wal-Mart are the two places where teenagers congregate at night, seemingly for no other purpose than to wander aimlessly 'round the store and flirt. I have never seen the charm in this, but my way of thinking is, apparently, rather unpopular. Droves of teenagers began converging upon the parking lot. All of the sober, middle-aged people scuttled hastily away, giving the place over to reckless youth. No-one offered me a ride, so I sat on my bench and waited for salvation. It came at last, and my goose-pimpled flesh rejoiced as I climbed into the warm car. I regaled Mom with the lovely qualities of my new headgear, and thought with amusement of another venture into the wide world, now come to an end.