Fig and Me Thrift Store Hopping

I threw a dirty pan into the empty sink and told myself I'd wash it before I went to bed. It was only 4:30 p.m. Who the heck does dishes at 4:30 p.m? Not me. I had already swept the floor listening to one of my favorite cd's by Sheryl Crow, and the house was clean enough. My cat thought so anyway and if it's good enough for her, it's good enough for me.

I hadn't sat down for more than a minute and I was about to find something entertaining to watch on my laptop when I heard my cellphone ringing. Darn it. Why is the phone all the way across the room? I just sat down. I got up and went to find out who was calling. It was Fig. One of my best gal pals. I forgot how long we've known each other, so that tells you it's been a long time.

"Hey Fig, what's up?" I answered.

"Are you busy?" she asked.

"Nope," I said, "Just trying to pretend I'm not bored."

"Perfect," she said, "Come get me and let's go thrift hop."

"I don't need anything and I'm trying to save money," I said defiantly.

"Shut up," she said, "I won't let you spend your stupid money and you need to see how we are both cured of our shopping addicitons. Plus I need a reminder that there are still good deals out there. C'mon, we're both bored."

"Ok," I agreed. Fig was always so good at convincing me.

So I threw on one of my easy outfits. I couldn't go in my nightgown though I have seen some people do that at Walmart. My easy outfit is the capri pants with matching top. I love easy outfits. I don't have to waste time determining if the top matches the bottom and if I have to act like I'm normal or punk rock. Easy outfit, normal, done.

I grabbed the half drunk Rockstar. I just started getting used to them. At first I thought they were too sweet for me, but now the taste is acquired. I can't get into my little used car with no air conditioning unless I have a cold drink. I rolled down the windows and started the old thing up. Then I drove carefully through the crazy city traffic about 2 miles to Fig's house.

She must've been really bored and eager to get out. She doesn't have her own car yet. She's saving for something. It's tough, I know. She was sitting on the front porch swing flicking the ashes of her cigarette into the grass. As soon as she saw me pulling up, she jumped out of the swing like she was going to jump into my car through the open window.

"Thank God," she said as she got into my car and sat down. She noticed my Rockstar in the cup holder and helped herself to a sip.

"Any particular Thrift Store in mind?" I asked as I backed out of her driveway.

"I said Hopping. You know the map," she said rolling her eyes as she took the last drag of her cigarette and threw the butt out the window. Then she turned up the radio and changed the channel looking for something she wanted to listen to. "Oh my God!" she exclaimed with a joyful smile, "This is perfect!" and she cranked up the volume. Mackelmore sang our theme song as I drove our thrift hop route.

First we stopped at St. Vincent de Paul's. While Fig was still obsessed with clothes and seemed fixated on jeans and jean shorts at this time, I took a stroll around the shelves that held the electronics. I wanted to see if I could find an old computer keyboard that I could hook up to my laptop. I'm still not that comfortable typing on the laptop keys. They didn't have much in technology donations - mostly wires and cords. How the heck am I supposed to know which cord goes to what? We looked at their racks for about ten minutes and then we both got bored and headed back to my car.

Next stop was Salvation Army's. Fig went to check out their shoes and purses, while I was looking at their furniture. Some of it was nice, but in my opinion too expensive. There were a few pieces that were fairly priced. When Fig was done looking through the shoes she ran over to where I was standing staring at a floral printed couch.

"What the hell are you looking at?" she asked almost laughing, "You don't need a couch."

"Well you don't need another purse," I told her, "Dang, Fig, you could probably open your own purse thrift store by now." Then we both laughed.

"Maybe I should," Fig said thinking about it.

"No, I have a better idea." I told her.

"You always do," she said half sarcastically, and half sincerely.

"C'mon, let's go. Maybe Goodwill has some more computer stuff."

"I doubt it," Fig said, "But isn't this great? I mean think about it. Our grannies used to brag about their time at Woolworths and McRorys. So what if we don't have that anymore? They never had the joy of thrift store hopping like we do."

"That's true," I admitted grinning, "But we still have Family Dollar."

"If Family Dollar is the new Woolworths, then I'd rather go thrift hopping any day." Fig said.

Then we left that store and I drove us to the Goodwill. Fig didn't look at the clothes there and that was surprising. Instead she was in the back of the store looking at sheets and blankets and linens. I didn't ask her why. I quickly made my way towards the electronics again. As I was passing the books and records sections, there were three large bins filled with used suitcases. There my eyes caught a glimpse of something that made me stop.

Wow. Vintage suitcase. It was beautiful. With the old wide zipper and a lock over the antique styled handle. I picked it up to examine it and it had that old musty smell of an antique. Someone nearby saw me loving on it and said to his companion, "Somebody found something vintage." I was so proud and I didn't want to let it go. I had been daydreaming about making a girly girl vanity out of a vintage suitcase just like this one. The price tag read "$9.99" and I was about to run to the cashier with it. Then that nagging voice was at me. No. Let it go. You are not a shopaholic. You've conquered that addiction. You have nowhere to put this right now. This is not the time. Save your money. Walk away. It was so hard to put that suitcase down. I almost wanted to cry as I walked away from it and headed towards the electronics shelf.

As I reached the shelf, Fig ran up holding a blue satin pillow case with a flower design on it.

"It's only 50 cents," she told me as if she had to justify herself. Then she headed towards the cashier.

I looked over the electronics shelf and I saw some great coffee makers and other kitchen utensils for great prices. I noticed they had an outlet so that you can plug things in to double check that they were functional. I spotted a sewing machine. I had to see what they were asking for it. Only $20! I wanted to die right there. How could I leave a $20 sewing machine behind? I did though. It's a good thing it was heavy or I would have fallen off the wagon of cured shopaholic.

After Fig paid for her pillowcase, she and I walked out of the store back to my car.

"There's one more stop," Fig said, but I could tell she was getting tired, and I was so glad.

"Yeah, Dunkin Donuts," I said, "I'll treat you to a Coolatta."

Fig smiled. We ran through the Dunkin Donuts drive through and I was glad that Pumpkin Spice and Pumpkin donuts had just returned. We drove off, Fig sipping her Coolatta, and me munching on a delicious pumpkin donut.

When I pulled back into Fig's driveway, she was happy and satisfied.

"We did great," she said as she got out of my car, then to me through the window, "We are still cured shopaholics."

"I guess a 50 cent pillowcase doesn't really count," I smiled at her.

"I'll call you tomorrow," she said and headed back into her house.

I drove back to my place feeling lucky to have a friend like Fig. Feeling satisfied to know the thrift store map and have a car. Feeling grateful to be sipping on an Iced Coffee.

It was a good day.