Measuring consumer confidence

According to "reliable" sources, the American economy is great and consumers are feeling just super. So...brimming with rediscovered consumer confidence, Taylor and I ventured out on Sunday to Bethesda to find some of the legendary thrift shops, feeling confident that we could bring ourselves to part with five or ten dollars on some kitchen equipment. We found one shop that dared to defy the day of rest and open on a Sunday. The place, cleverly named Deja New, occupied a large old wooden colonial style house that looked at least one hundred years old and gave the impression that nothing had been thrown away since the day it was built. The two story, several thousand square foot house was wall to wall "treasures" piled precariously all the way up to the ceilings. The overflow covered the front yard three feet deep. We went into a porch area with a concentration of kitchen implements. The floor was tilting and the whole room felt like it would fall off if just one more George Foreman grill was added to the pile. I found a hardhat, aptly placed in the kitchen room, and donned it for a measure of protection. We managed to dig up a few scroungy pieces of pyrex, and I scored an ice cream scooper. The whole event set us back three dollars. We failed to located two items on our list: a large covered skillet and ear muffs (the latter is not a cooking implement, not even for me).

As we were heading out, Taylor confessed that she had half a mind to buy a, gasp, NEW covered skillet. Just then, we saw a mall and pull into the parking garage. Maybe I should have taken note of the anchor store, Nieman Marcus. When we emerged from the garage, the elevator dropped us off exactly in front of Williams Sonoma--surely this was the guiding hand of fate. We gravitated toward the skillet display, as if pulled by forces beyond our control (marketers). "This skillet looks pretty good," said I. And then, "Uhh.......Where am I? Why am I on the floor? Are you an angel?" I can't exactly remember what happened, but when I came to, Taylor was fanning me with what looked like a pricetag for brain bypass surgery. It turned out to be the pricetag for the skillet.

In fact, we already have a very nice copper skillet from Williams Sonoma that Taylor's mother gave us some time back. Now I know why she worries that she hasn't saved enough for retirement.

You may be wondering why we need a skillet, if we already have one. Well, Taylor, in her infinite wisdom, decided to protect the precious skillet by leaving it in our storage unit in Portland. I may have to go pick it up and unprotect it. I am not making this up: it would cost less for me to fly to Portland, get the skillet out of storage, and bring it back to DC, than it would to buy a new skillet. I wonder if I could tax deduct the travel as a business expense....

Having failed in the skillet quest, we went hunting for ear muffs. Nieman Marcus seems like a place that would sell a nice muff for the ear. We wandered in, past the guard whose eyes followed us as he whispered into his lapel. I'm sure he was just saying: "Customer assistance needed in the ear muff department", even though it sounded a little like "Joe! Scruffians that smell of thrift store headed your way." Directly, we found a nice display of scarves, hats, gloves and, yes, ear muffs. The scarves didn't look like any scarf I've ever owned. I thought I heard Taylor say she saw Mink Stole in the store, but I looked around and didn't see her anywhere. We're close to Baltimore, so I guess it's possible. We did find a collection of ear muffs. Apparently, before these were keeping DC commuters' ears warm, they were keeping a nice bunny rabbit's own ears warm. At that point, Taylor announced: "I have to get out of here." And we took our animal-loving, cold-eared, skillet-less selves back to the garage and left before our hour of free parking expired.

I guess the conclusion is that our consumer confidence is worth one three dollar bill.