Lessons in Shopping

Dear Readers,

I went to the hobby store with Shay and Lucas yesterday. By hobby store, I mean the market place for the socially awkward and slightly eccentric.

When you enter the store, it seems relatively harmless. Different painting projects and small toys greet you. But as you head into the heart of the store, you find yourself surrounded by dragon figurines, model trains, very realistic looking toy guns, and model remote control planes from the very small to the ridiculously large soar overhead. They have aisles dedicated to Dungeons and Dragons, model glue, and really strange and unheard of boardgames. Did you know that you can create your own miniature universe with miniature Star Wars figures? I didn't, until Hobby Town U.S.A. told me differently.

The most intriguing part of Hobby Town were the people. It gave me a whole new understanding of geekhood. You have the model train geeks, usually middle aged divorced men that wear t-shirts that say things about their ex-wives. Next in line are the real looking toy gun boys, who wear camo and reminded me a lot of Dwight from The Office. The model airplane guys take life too seriously. The board game guys aren't too bad, but you'll never see them at a hip club. But the D&D and other roleplaying geeks are in their own world...speaking with stereotypical nerdy voices, wearing taped glasses, and using correct enunciation of elven languages.

I should, at this point, let you know that I was the only female in the place. Just my very presence seemed to make the entire store nervous. Being married to Shay and surrounded by my sweet nerdy friends I've learned to speak in geek terms, but my attempts to communicate with the Hobby Town natives just made them anxious. No eye contact was made, nor friendships for that matter.

Earlier in the day we went to Costco. I can break that crowd down too; there are the jerks, the pushy people, the people who have too many kids and can't control them, the people who will run you down to get a giant pumpkin pie even though there are still 50 left, the people who don't know how to go with the cart flow, and the people sitting in the food court eating hot dogs as fast as they can. There are a few normal people here and there, and a few niceties are passed along. For the most part, it's a store full of anxiety and stress.

After thinking about the experiences I had in both stores, I've realized that my inner Costco shopper has crushed my inner Hobby Town shopper, and it made me feel a little sad. Why must I fight my way through the crowds in a walk in vegetable cooler when I could take my sweet time picking the perfect color to paint my model train engine? Perhaps we high anxiety types could learn a lesson or two from our nerdly counterparts. Maybe we should take time to stop and smell the model glue.

Sincerely,
h.