The Dilemma
Well, Christmas is right around the corner, which is pretty scary for most of us. But just like everybody else, I headed out to the Tanger Outlets and to the Bridgehampton Commons to do a little shopping for the family in the hopes of finding the perfect gift.
There is just one simple problem with Christmas shopping, and that is finding the perfect balance between a gift that is cool enough so that particular member of your family that received it says, “Wow, thank you so much,” with a cost of about, I don’t know, five bucks sounds right to me.
So, of course, you convince yourself that Tanger is the motherload of these types of gifts. Sure, you’ll stop by the Commons, maybe pick up a hat and glove set from The Gap, but you got your eyes on Tanger during that shopping day. Riverhead may be a small drive, but it is going to be so worth the trip. Right? Right!?
I was completely pumped to see signs in Tanger that said, “80% Off” when I pulled in. But then, I’d walk into a store and see the sweater for 80% off was marked down from $6,000 to $1,200. Not exactly what I had in mind.
I had roamed the streets of Tanger for about an hour and had not bought a single item for anybody. This was turning into a stressful experience, so I went for a cup of coffee.
At one point, I found myself in Polo for forty-five minutes, staring at a black jacket while sipping a peppermint latte (very good, by the way). I was not planning on buying this jacket for anybody in my family, however. I was planning on buying this jacket for myself. We’ve all been in this situation right? The moral dilemma that occurs when you turn a gift shopping day into a me shopping day. But that wasn’t the only reason I was taking so long to make a purchasing decision. My real problem here was, did I really want this jacket?
Was this jacket really right for me? Does this jacket really represent the human being that I am? Should I get the one in blue? Is it wrong to spend $100 on a jacket when I should be shopping for others? Should I call my Mom or Dad and ask them to pay for it, perhaps making this one of my Christmas gifts, and of course, I’ll just wear it for now? Doing this also guarantees a surprise present, because nobody wants to go empty-handed on the official day of gift giving.
Stress.
What kind of person would I be to call up my Dad and tell him I wanted this jacket? I’m not in fifth grade anymore. There are no lists when you are 24, just a casual hope.
After forty-five minutes and about four or five pleas from a sales associate to please exit the store or throw out my peppermint latte, I left empty-handed, headed back to my car and took a breath.
Today was just not my shopping day. My wallet and I were not on speaking terms, its confidence in my bargain hunting ability was shot to hell, and my credit card was tucked so tightly away inside of its wallet shell it looked like a hermit crab trying to avoid a deadly peck attack from a seagull.
The holidays are rough for all of us.
If there is one motivating force that drives me to buy gifts for my family, it is fear of shame. Whatever happened to drawing a handmade photo of your mom, signing it in crayon and watching her cry tears of joy? Those were certainly the days, but those days are now over, and showing up on Christmas empty handed would be like showing up to a funeral in a bathing suit. You are just looked at funny.
Of course, none of this is true. It is the gift of giving that really makes me go out and buy things for everyone. It makes me feel good inside when I watch my bank account slowly die a horrible, horrible death every December. It’s a warm, fuzzy, new pair of socks kind of feeling that truly makes this time of year, the most wonderful time of year.