Day: 3, Items Purchased: 0 Temptation Radar: 0 on a scale of 10
Back to work today after nearly 2 weeks off. The first day back to work after a holiday is always, for me, a ceremonial parade of administrative regality. My email box was packed and I had forgotten where I left off with my job. Web-ex workshops, district meetings, & customer appointments are king, queen & prince. I, the devoted sales serf, eagerly greeted them and escorted each to his proper throne upon the schedule . Second by second, the clean blocks on my calendar for January became cluttered with obligation ad nauseum. The detail dotting & crossing of corporate alphabet while trying to solve the puzzle of my new incentive compensation plan, left me exhausted and feeling, quite frankly, like I needed to buy something besides another vowel. Then I remembered: NO SHOP FOR YOU. YOU GO HOME NOW.
Fair enough. I’m actually lacking the enthusiasm to consider what I’d look like arriving to the team meeting Wednesday in a new silk wrap dress and shiny patent leather heels. Who am I kidding? I did consider it, but only for a moment when I was interrupted by a curious piece of mail.
Oh shoot. The markings of an impulsive shopping spree I indulged in mid- June still haunts me each month in the form of a discreet paper statement. I’d like to make a statement about the statement, if I may. You see, many people think that shoppers who run up credit cards actually lack the money to purchase the items, thus they purchase on loan. This, in many cases, could not be farther from the truth. You may be eerily surprised to learn that there is, in fact, another form of idiocy that proves more absurd than that notion. It is the theory of the “The Retail Preservationist.”
You see, the Retail Preservationist is one who actually could handily pay cash for the desired items. The money is most assuredly in the bank. However, she being keenly aware of the possibility of a”rainy day”, or an unforseen crisis of sorts, saves her cash flow for emergencies. Clearly, a Missoni caftan, albeit heavily discounted, in low stock and at risk for sell-out, does not constitute a legitimate emergency. Therefore, any responsible retail preservationist would unapologetically throw Master Missoni on a credit card, namely one that has a generous point program which could also provide a future benefit, and preserve her cash. So, see? In an effort to be responsible, aforementioned shopper saves her cashflow for real life and her credit for playtime.
The only thing I’m preserving today, however is the celebration of my resolution. And, with it I opened my statement. I looked it square in the face, grabbed my checkbook and with a firm stare and strong grip, I stroked the check for the balance $344.65 and a special note:
Dear Mr. Saks on the 5th,
Please accept this final payment on the balance of my responsible spending account. Although I do enjoy your monthly correspondence, reminding me ever so sweetly of all the moments I frolicked in your store, I will not be needing any future lovenotes. I am confident of your affection for me. Sadly, I am on shopping sabatacle thru December of this year and upon my return will make purchases with cash only. I know. I know. Please, let’s not make this harder than it is. I beg of you to forsake efforts to woo me; to rekindle my love with your sexy point program. Further, please don’t send me beautifully wrapped love letters filled with special customer coupons and such. I am free now. Au revoir!