The Danger of Shopaholicism

Today was like any other typical day and I was walking through the mall, nonchalantly, getting ready to attend one of our productive writers’ meetings. Suddenly, my eyes noticed something and I became totally entranced, like a fly to a bug lamp. I started getting butterflies in my stomach and had that weak-at-the-knees feeling. Next thing you know, my body was a full two steps in front of my head and I was about ready to fall flat on my ass.

To make a long story short, the next thing I consciously remember was staring at a really pretty girl smile at me and say, “The total comes out to $116.98.” Whoa! What?! Why?! I looked down and notice that she’s bagging a pair of jeans and a sweater that I subconsciously bought. Not again!

This isn’t the first time this has happened and I’m pretty sure it’s not gonna be the last. I have a problem that can only be diagnosed as one word: shopaholicism. No, it’s not the problem where you come home and beat your wife and yell at your children. It’s the one where you constantly keep buying clothes just because you have a sudden attraction towards them.  

How am I going to fulfill my dream of becoming an ultra-suave multi-millionaire if I’m stuck in some sort of trance and spending hundreds of dollars every single time I walk by a clothing store? Shoot, at the rate I’m going, I might as well reserve a room at the nearest homeless shelter and make it permanent. They better have decent closet space too!

Next time I walk through a mall or some sort of fashion district, I better come with some sort of protection. I’m gonna hire a professional to come with me and when she notices that I start to drift towards a store, I’m gonna authorize the person to sucker punch me in the face in order to keep me in check. I’m either gonna end up going home with a bloody nose or a black eye or even both.  But that’s much better than an empty wallet. Straight up, homie!