Shopping: ‘I tried … I failed’

I am a big believer that a person is never too old to learn.  It’s the ‘old dog … new trick thing I like to say these days.  Of course in most instances I’m the old dog.

So, it was with that mindset that I set out on Saturday with my wife Lisa for my first (and only) shopping excursion of this Christmas season.  Admittedly, I am not a good shopper, a happy shopper or a patient shopper.  But with my work schedule completely blank for a couple of days I decided to not only accompany her on this trip but also I vowed to myself to pay attention to the techniques used by a world-class shopper.  I wanted to see if there was something I was missing, something more to this insatiable desire to get to a mall – any mall – or in my wife’s case the closest T.J. Maxx store.

So, in short I had my mind right and was focused as we began this journey.

As we entered the first store I noticed there was a marked difference in both of us.  First, she seemed to be much more comfortable with her surroundings than I did.  As she grabbed the shopping cart I noticed her knuckles were white.  I likened her  shopping ‘game-face’ and the way her eyes took in the many rows of merchandise to Peyton Manning or Tom Brady dropping back in the pocket and then quickly ‘checking down’ the different receivers.  Perhaps the best way to describe it is to simply say when she grabbed the shopping cart she had the eyes of an assassin – cold and fixed on the job at hand.

On the other hand, my mind seemed to become confused and cluttered (even more so than usual) as I looked ahead at the sea of swarming people – big, small, old young and everybody seeming to be quite miserable.  I also felt as if the store and the aisle got a lot smaller narrower and more difficult to maneuver.  My head was instantly swimming and my eyes glazed over.  I shook my head from side to side to fight through, bound and determined to stay positive and try and find out the secret to the love of shopping.

As I dutifully followed along behind her I noticed that she would actually slow down, sort of browse in an aisle, touching several garments as she walked slowly along.  Every few steps she would come to a complete stop and as she felt of a garment or other item she would actually take it off the rack and then do something that was completely foreign to me.  She would hold the garment out in front of her, then rub the fabric between her fingers and in many instance run her hand down the length or width of the shirt, jacket, pants, etc.  And then in many instances she would hold the garment up next to her. She seemed to be quite aggressive as she pushed clothes from side to side in search of sizes.  I heard her mutter on several occasions about finding ‘the perfect gift.’  Since I have had thousands of interviews with coaches, I liken this to a coach talking about the intensity that his team had in a particular game.

And then after completing all these things she would hang the garment back up where it was and slowly start walking forward, again scanning the area in front of her while again reaching out and touching clothing as she walked.  Great peripheral vision, I thought.   I tried unsuccessfully to determine what the percentage was of the times she took an item off a rack and placed it in the cart or hung it back up.  I wondered if there might be some statistics that would be available to determine this.  Much like baseball where pitchers are judged by their ERA (earned-run-average) I would imagine that seasoned shoppers must have an IRA (items-returned-average).  And again just like baseball the lower the IRA the better the shopper.

But, this entire process was so odd to me that I never adjusted.  You see, my mindset when I enter a store is sort of ‘search-and-destroy.’   I walk to the item, not slowing down or touching any other clothing along the way.  I find the one I want and if it comes off the rack it IS going in the cart, period. When I am forced to shop I am a man on a mission.

As we trudged through the afternoon I sadly realized that indeed there was a reason that this was my first trip shopping this Christmas season.  You see, no matter how prepared or focused I tried to be, shopping was simply something that I was not going to like. Never. Ever. Never.

There is an old saying that says: Misery … loves company.  And as I plundered miserably along throughout the afternoon I made eye contact with several other captive men who were also towing the line behind a female who had that same steely-eyed look as my wife.  In most instance we just sort of nodded sympathetically at each other.  No words were needed, we all new how each other was suffering.

However, late in the day I did have a revelation that made me feel totally better about the experience. Let me explain.

Several years ago when new shopper-friendly malls sprang up all over the United States each and every one had a signature bar and grill type restaurant attached.  I envision that the architect who came up with the brilliant idea to make a safe haven for men –   complete with cold drinks, dozens of huge television screens all with all sports all the time had to be a guy who was a bad shopper.  As I let my mind embrace that thought I imagined it was a guy who one day tried hard and really put his best foot forward at trying to understand the mind of a shopper and then failed miserably.

While the mastermind of this gift to men will never know it … I toasted him Saturday evening.