How To Go Shopping

This is the excerpt for your very first post.

I’m in a store which sells tasteful, Scandinavian gifts and homeware. Essential items like beard oil, boxes of salted liquorice, and decorative wooden elephants costing over one thousand pounds.

In this tranquil shop, full of tranquil people, browsing for tranquil things, my klazomania kicks in.

“Lemon!” I shout. “Lemon! Lemon! Lemon!”

The shouting really does jar with the store’s ambience. But, hey, people with Tourette’s need to buy beard oil too, and so I continue to meander through the rows of goods that I cannot afford.

It’s not long before I notice my shadow: a security man drawn to my citrusy speech. He watches me, approaches me, staying near but not that near, and never actually deigning to talk. 

Voluntarily, I throw him an inane grin and, involuntarily, another “Lemon!”

I get it. He wants to figure out whether I am a shoplifter, or some strange citrus-based troublemaker. But if I wanted to pinch anything from this store (which –  if I had no moral compass – I totally would, everything here is so goddam tasteful), I would be quiet and not loud about the process.

It’s just common sense that people with Tourette’s make for bad shoplifters, though. Especially with my Tourette’s, because  as well as shouting out “lemon!” at random intervals, I am also prone to saying “yoink!” whenever I pick up something.  

On my way out, I want to tell the security man I am a klazomaniac, not a kleptomaniac. But I don’t, not only because klazomania is, some might argue, one of English’s more uncommon words, but also because I don’t want to offend any thieves in the vicinity.

So, I exit the shop, liquorice-less, beard oil-less, and elephant-less, leaving behind a wake of bemusement and amusement, and I’m on to the next store, an afternoon of loud lemons stretching out before me.

5 thoughts on “How To Go Shopping”

  1. You really should have gotten the salted licorice, not so great for the blood pressure, but really tasty stuff. Every time I read something like this, I’m reminded how fortunate that my tics are all but silent.

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    1. Thanks for reading, Jeff. Maybe I’ll go back and buy some salted liquorice then 🙂 For me, it’s hard to know which tics are worse, the vocal or the motor. I think both present their own problems. The vocal tics draw a lot of attention, but the motor tics can be painful (especially when my Tourette’s decides I need to punch a wall).

      Liked by 1 person

  2. I’ve now picked up your lemon tic, apparently my tourettes thought your tourettes was a genius. Its all I’ve been ticcing about for the past 4 days. Its getting annoying now though so I thought I’d appeal to you to put up some of your other tics, I’m nievely hoping (fingers crossed) that it’ll make the lemons change to something else.

    Alanis

    Liked by 1 person

    1. Hey Alanis
      Uh oh, I’m sorry you’ve got the lemon tic! It’s been a while since I’ve had it to be honest, but maybe (hopefully) your lemons will disappear soon.
      To be honest ‘lemon’ is one of my more innocuous tics. It’s certainly better than when I shout ‘you’re a dead person’ or ‘dead people’. Maybe you should try to tic ‘orange’, ‘lime’ or ‘grapefruit’ just to expand the citrus theme. Maybe I’ll try that too!
      Best
      Alice

      Liked by 1 person

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