Otherwise I'd probably run amok with a bloodied cleaver through the dingy back alleys.
So yes, it's much better - both for my tenuous sanity and the well-being of the cityfolks - that I release my pent-up stress and frustration on my overworked credit card instead. Despite the abundance of dubious working girls readily available for every virile red-blooded straight men in town, there seems to be a sad paucity of cute money boys for me to spend on instead.
So it's straight back to the mall instead.
Time for some serious shopping!
Trust me when I say the choices are limited. What about clothes you say? Since I have no intention to take a leisurely stroll down the beach like a bum in a ragged tank top and flip flops nor do I want to appear as a flashy Chinese pop entertainer in shockingly garish outré fashion, the men's stores here are definitely not for me. The stores catering for the younger crowd terrify me while the older ones are seriously bland, boring and blah.
Already have CDs and DVDs packed high to the rafters at home - with at least half a dozen television series I have yet to catch up with - so those purchases are gonna have to stop for a while till I actually get around to finishing them.
Books then? Only a handful of bookstores in town and regrettably even their latest bestsellers just coming in stock can't really keep up with my monthly online purchases on Amazon and Book Depository. And till now, there's nary a decent graphic novel sold in town. Sigh.
So what else is there left for me to spend on? Happily though this town has several el cheapo stores filled to the brim with silly bric-a-bracs from the factories of China. Lopsided kitchenware, plastic toys and massage rollers in abundance at bargain-basement prices. Since almost everything on the shelves is around five dollars, you can imagine how wild I get - Supermarket Sweep is the best description I can give.
And yet after carting everything to the cashier counter, I stop and pause. What the fuck do I need all this trash? Nose-hair trimmer? Skull massager?
Which is why the entire shopping basket is usually left at the counter as I slap myself silly to wake up from the retail insanity. Whereupon I head for my consolation ice-cream cone at the local Mcdonalds.
Yes, it's almost impossible to go on a shopping spree here. Each time I begin the journey with high hopes, setting aside a stash of money just for the trip only to return several hours later with a measly expenditure of less than five dollars. Talk about the best place for a recovering shopaholic. Damn.