Srsly. I will never, for as long as I live, understand how anyone can enjoy going to a maul just for the hell of it, just for fun. To me, the maul is one of the most stressful places to be on the planet. It’s so bad, I hate it so much, that I had an anxiety attack while there on Saturday. The only good thing was that the Burlington Maul is close to Lahey Clinic, so if I really were having a heart attack, at least the ambulance would have taken me there, and not to the Hospital From Hell. So I guess when I MUST go to a maul, that’s another good reason to go there, and not to Square One, which is closer to the hellhole hospital.
The only two parts of that maul where I felt any peace were at the Bare Escentuals Boutique and Legal Sea Foods. If you use Bare Escentuals makeup, and shop at Sephora, when there is a BE Boutique in the same or in a nearby maul, you are batshit insane. Srsly. I did go into the Burlington Maul Sephora, checked out the BE offerings, and it has gone WAY downhill since they opened up a BE Boutique upstairs in the same maul. The place was a floopin’ circus, I could not wait to get out of there, and I went upstairs to the peacefulness of the BE boutique. There, I could take my time, and look for what I wanted, in peace. This store is one of the few reasons I go to any maul in the first place. I only wish I didn’t have to walk halfway through that hellhole of a maul, nearly getting my ass mowed down by various idiot parents who were using their SUV strollers as battering rams, in order to get to this fabulous store. Needless to say, the BE Boutique got my money, Sephora did not. And I actually got a better deal, price-wise, at the BE store.
I had left Mike at Sears to buy his underwear and crap, and it was a mistake. I had left him there because it takes him forever to pick out his crap, even if it’s just underwear, and it bores me. He has no interest in going to a makeup store, and I preferred to go without him, anyway. I also wanted to hit CVS in the maul, to grab some Nice & Easy, as it’s hair color time again. I try not to buy that when he’s present, because he doesn’t like the smell of the hair color products, and will bitch and moan about it forever. But if I buy the stuph, and he doesn’t see it, use it when he’s not at home, it’s all good. The smell is gone by the time he gets home. But if he knows I have the stuph, he imagines the smell lasting for months. Go figure.
So, after I got my girly crap, I went back to Sears. I wanted to buy underwear for myself, but could not find the women’s underwear department, no matter how much I walked around. I did get the cooktop cleaner I’d been wanting to get; I got a couple of big bottles that should keep me going for the good part of a year. When I was upstairs in the appliance/electronics department, I walked past the cordless phones, which reminded me that we needed a new one, as the old one pretty much died. Normally, I would have waited until I met up with Mike again to make the decision as to what phone to buy, but I wanted a phone that was a little more expensive than one he would have picked out. Which was probably why we had to buy a new one, he picked out a cheap one, it died, and there you have it.
Anyhoo, I selected a phone with two extra handsets, as well as a feature that the old, cheap one didn’t have…Call Block. You see, I have been harassed several times a week with calls from some collection agency, looking for some guy who is not here, I assume it’s someone who gave out this number in the past, maybe he had it before we did, who knows? But they are NOT looking for us; however, their message says that if I don’t pick up the phone and talk to them, I agree that I am *Joe Deadbeat* or whatever the hell his name is. How dumb is that? What if I weren’t home, does that mean I agree to be *Joe Deadbeat* and will pay his bills? It’s actually WORSE if you pick up and talk to these people, then they will still think you are *Joe Deadbeat*, and therefore still won’t leave you alone!
Well, with the new phone, I can block the number that these calls were coming from. It was the first one I blocked when I hooked up the new phone. And I can block 29 more numbers of people who call and annoy me. I love it!
Meanwhile, Mike had gotten his underwear and stuph…and a new credit card, from the evil Shittibank! Apparently, the cashier who rang up his purchase told he could get $15 off his purchase if he applied for a Sears MasterCard (not the same as the Sears store charge, which we already have). Now, if I were there, I would have told the cashier to shove it; as it was, the guy who rang up the phone and the cooktop cleaner did NOT ask me if I wanted to apply for this card. Good thing, I wanted to just pay and move on, no hassle.
But Mike, for some dumbassed reason, agreed to apply for the card. He was approved, and they put his purchase on the new account, not the regular Sears charge, the one I’ve been paying ten times the minimum for, to get it paid off ASAP. He now has a temporary credit card, and they’ll be sending him the real one soon. And he’s happy about this…he, who wanted to close own the regular Sears account because it was bought by the evil Shittibank. I was against that because I wanted to keep it in case we needed new appliances, which ended up happening (washer and dryer). But Mike swore up and down, no more credit cards, and then HE gets himself a new one that we do not need!
Mike did not tell me of this new credit card, not until we finally met up at Legal Sea Foods, and not until after I had a Sam Adams Noble Pils in me. The fact that Legal had Noble Pils on tap, in addition to the BE Boutique, were the only really good parts of this maul trip.
I didn’t ream him a new one over it, but I did demand that once the first bill came, that he hand it over to me so I could set up payment through our bank’s website. I reminded him that the last time he tried to mail a check to Sears/Shittibank, they managed to *lose* it, and hit us up with a hefty late fee. When I tried setting up bill pay on the Sears/Shittibank website, they let me pay the bill ONCE. Then it never let me log in again. That was when I set up online bill pay via our bank; after that, we never got hit with a late fee from anyone, ever again. Our bank will cover our asses if a payee claims we didn’t pay. Neener, neener, neener, Shittibank. But WHY Mike agreed to another Shittibank card is beyond me, especially since he swore he never would. This is what I get for leaving him alone in a maul for even five minutes, I suppose. Next time, his ass gets dragged to the BE Boutique with me!
I guess there is one good thing about his getting instantly approved for another credit card…that means we might have a better chance now of getting approved for a mortgage to buy a house and get the hell out of this dump town. Our credit sucked big fat hairy smelly donkey ‘nads for years, thanks to all of that Evil Bossman shit. I guess it’s finally gotten better now; maybe it’s time to start looking at houses again. Maine may not be realistic now, since Mike still has to work, but New Hampshire could be realistic. But no way in hell will I agree to buy a house in Massachusetts.
Anyhoo…my panic attack came about after we ate at Legal Sea Foods…we’d forgotten the stupid shower curtain liners that only Sears has…the nice thick, cat-proof ones, that is…so we went back to Sears to get them. As we were entering Sears, it started…I told Mike that I had to sit down, I was dizzy, light-headed, and was afraid I’d have to go to the hospital. It had nothing to do with the two beers I’d had…in fact, if I’d been able to have a third, I may have been better off. That’s how much I hate the maul, there is only so much I can take without some sort of medication. So I sat down at a nearby chair, popped an Ativan, and waited to calm down, while he went to buy the stupid shower curtain liners. By the time he came back, I was fine, and then we left the hellhole that is the maul, and went grocery shopping. Fortunately, it was getting late, and Market Basket was pretty quiet and asshole-free. And the liquor store next door had Sam Noble Pils, which brought much happiness. Damn, but that is some wicked good beer!
I still didn’t get my needed underwear and socks. Mike didn’t find the handkerchiefs he’d been looking for, either. Maybe we’ll just go to that fancy French department store, Tar-jhay, to look for some. Target is much less stressful than any maul. Srsly.
