…when what they always really mean is, “It’s you?”
Private to Sportsman’s Warehouse: It’s you.
I hate shopping online almost as much as I hate shopping period. Different reasons, of course. I mean, it’s me. Completely. I’m neurotic about filling out forms, I don’t deny it, and shopping online is all about filling out forms. But I’ll do it, because the alternative is weaving my own cloth and making sandals out of old tires.
Anyway, a regular and very generous reader gave me a gift card to this site called Sportsman’s Warehouse, at which I have never shopped before. Took a while for me to try using it, because at the time I was having connection problems and basically couldn’t use the site at all. But free is free and I did eventually remember to get back to it. Then it took quite a while to find something there I actually needed and could afford. That was kind of fun, to be honest. Shopping without bumping shoulders with strangers is not the part of online shopping I dislike. Finally found a pair of sandals, which met both of the above criteria. Summer is coming, and my evening sandals are falling apart.
Okay. On to the part I dislike, which I dutifully slogged through without complaint because it must be done and my neuroses are not the fault of the staff or management of Sportsman’s Warehouse. If I weren’t crazy, I wouldn’t live here.
And I hit the big red button and got…
And I thought, okay, that’s enough fun for tonight. This morning I fiddled with the dog, took a long walk, did the chicken chores, walked back, took a sink bath, washed up, refilled water bottles, then hooked the phone to the laptop and was reminded of last night’s unsuccessful shopping trip because a) I left the tab open and b) I got an email from Sportsman’s Warehouse which I genuinely wish I’d saved so I could do a screenshot. They seemed concerned about my health and welfare. “Where did you go?”
I filled out all the forms again, since I was thinking about it. Clicked the big red button. And you already know what’s coming next…