Shopping misfit enjoys his own perks: peace, solitude

Black Friday story, a week late:

Overslept and woke up at 6:30 a.m. Blamed it on the second helping of turkey consumed just before going to bed.

Wandered down to the kitchen and started a pot of coffee. Let the dog out. Went to get the morning paper. Read it back to front as I’ve always done since I was in grammar school. Note: There must be an explanation for this somewhere.

Spent the rest of the day puttering around the house and putting the finishing touches on a small, walnut jewelry box I’d rescued from an antiques store. Said touches included — over several days — five coats of linseed oil interspersed by repeated sanding with 400 grit sandpaper and lining the thing with batting (yes, Virginia, we males know what “batting” is) and velvet.

What never happened was my going anywhere near a shopping mall.

No, I’m not against shopping and I also understand that the Christmas season is when many merchants make much of of their yearly profit. Such is what helps drive our economy and I’ll soon be out and about buying the gifts I’ll be giving this year.

My problem is that I’m not a big fan of either commotion or crowds and, from what I’ve come to see over the years, Black Friday is all about commotion and crowds.

Ask my wife about this and she’ll tell you stories about my penchant for finding the nearest quiet area in any crowded store and nervously staying there until she’s found whatever she came for.

Remember also that I spent a career going to places where “commotion and crowds” were several thousand miles distant and regarding that distance as “not nearly far enough.” Thus, my participation in this “tradition” would be about as likely as the pope showing up at an “exotic dancing” venue.

Adding ammunition to my aversion was this year’s Black Friday story about a woman pepper-spraying several fellow shoppers in order to ensure her obtaining whatever item had made her “must-have” list. Further, that evening there were the ubiquitous film clips from all over the country showing shoppers charging through doors that opened at “oh-dark-thirty.”

Just not my cup of tea.

I’ve also recently joined the small — but growing — segment of society trying to support local businesses that sell quality items (See: Last longer than a celebrity marriage) made in the United States.

On that last, I have to admit that it’s getting tough, but there are still companies here in America that make and sell darned fine products. Yes, they may cost more, but you’ll generally find that these companies stand behind their products.

In one case I’ve previously mentioned, I’d purchased a winter coat back in 1994. It was one that required — depending on the amount of wear the coat received — a wax waterproofing treatment be applied every year or so.

Over a period of years, I noticed that the coat had developed an odd smell that wouldn’t go away no matter what I tried. I gave up and, in 2008, I took the coat back to the store where I’d purchased it (and where it had been made) and asked them what could be done.

The salesperson took the coat, sniffed it, and said “Wait here.” She then went to the rack, grabbed a new one, handed it to me and said, “That should take care of it.”

Do note that she didn’t ask for a receipt, never questioned where or when I’d gotten the coat, and did this without checking with management or requiring me to fill out a form of any kind.

Needless to say, I’ll be visiting them again this holiday season to buy an item or three to give as gifts.

I know that I’m in the minority here. No problem there either. Others happily do their shopping and thoroughly enjoy the crush and jostle of Black Friday while I, and other shopping misfits like me, enjoy smaller stores with uncrowded aisles.

Still, in my defense, the words “Christmas Madness Sale” just don’t seem to be an apt description of what the season is supposed to be about.

Just saying.

Larry Simoneaux lives in Edmonds. Send comments to larrysim@comcast.net.