We’re Only Going in for One Thing—and Other Lies We Tell in the Parking Lot

“We’re only going in for one thing.”

A bold announcement, made in a parking lot by two women who have already noticed the cute baskets through the window.

Picture this: you and a friend need toothpaste. That’s it. One tube. No cart. No wandering. A quick little errand before lunch.

Forty minutes later, she’s holding a ceramic goose in a cowboy hat while you say, “I don’t know where you’d put him, but I do think he needs to come with us.”

The toothpaste has not been mentioned since the engine was turned off.

First, we establish the rules we will immediately abandon

“We don’t need a cart,” you say.

“Absolutely not,” she agrees.

This is the strongest either of you will be all afternoon.

You walk in carrying only your purse and the confidence of women who have never met themselves.

Then your friend picks up a blanket.

“Just feel it.”

You feel it.

Well. Now there’s a situation.

“That’s really soft.”

“I know.”

“You have blankets.”

“I know.”

You both stand there holding it, as though the blanket might make a statement on its own behalf.

“Go get a cart,” she says.

You go get a cart.

Neither woman makes eye contact with the parking lot on the way.

The candle department has requested our presence

You cannot simply pass a candle. You have to smell it. Otherwise, how will you know whether you’re passing a good candle?

Your friend hands you a jar.

“What do you think?”

You inhale with the seriousness of someone evaluating a property investment.

“It smells like a man who owns a nice cabin.”

“A clean cabin?”

“Very clean. He’s got the good paper towels.”

She smells it again. “I’m getting more furniture store.”

You smell it again.

Well, shoot. Now you are too.

Another candle smells like a pie you’re not going to bake. A third smells like a forest, but in a way you don’t want your house to smell like a forest.

After a thorough investigation, you choose the first one.

The cabin man has prevailed.

Nobody needed the goose until we met the goose

There he is.

A white ceramic goose. Tiny cowboy hat. Face of a man who knows the restaurant is out of your favorite thing and has decided not to tell you until you order.

Your friend picks him up.

“Oh, I love him.”

“Where would he go?”

“I don’t know.”

You step back to assess him from a different angle. This is important. Apparently, you’re the goose consultant now.

“Kitchen?”

“Maybe.”

“Entry table?”

“Possibly.”

“He does look like he’d judge people coming in.”

She turns him toward you.

He absolutely does.

“Put him in the cart,” you say.

A friendship is a beautiful thing. Sometimes it means telling someone the truth. Sometimes it means finding a safe place for her goose between a candle and a houseplant.

We briefly lose custody of the cart

Your friend wants your opinion on two pillows.

They are the same pillow.

She says they are not.

“This one’s warmer.”

You hold them side by side. “This one’s closer to the light.”

She switches hands.

You switch opinions.

Somewhere during this consultation, both of you walk away from the cart.

Now you’re standing at an aisle intersection with a pillow under one arm, asking, “Did we leave him by the lamps?”

You mean the goose. You’ve stopped referring to the cart as a cart.

For a brief, alarming moment, you spot another woman with a plant in her basket.

“Is that ours?”

“No. Ours has a goose.”

Honestly, it’s a very efficient tracking system.

The checkout line introduces a final challenge

You find the cart. Everybody’s fine. The goose hasn’t even taken his hat off.

At checkout, you begin transferring what appears to be a small apartment onto the belt.

Your friend holds up the blanket again.

“Do you think I should get it?”

You have touched this blanket eleven times. You have carried it through five departments. You briefly used it to cushion a goose.

“At this point,” you say, “I think it thinks you’re its mother.”

She puts it on the belt.

Then the cashier asks, “Did you find everything?”

“Yes, thank you,” you both answer.

Two women. One lie. Perfect harmony.

In the parking lot, we conduct a small review

The trunk is open. Bags are being arranged. The goose gets the pillow because, apparently, somebody on this trip is traveling first class.

You stand back and admire the packing.

“That was fun.”

“We should do lunch.”

“Definitely.”

There’s a pause.

“What did we come in for?”

You look at each other.

You look at the goose.

The goose offers nothing.

“Toothpaste.”

Your friend closes her eyes.

“We forgot the toothpaste.”

There’s only one sensible thing to do.

You get back in the car and drive to a different store.

“Just toothpaste this time,” she says.

“Obviously.”

Then, through the window, you notice the baskets.

From Michelle and the women at Envy Stylz

At Envy, Michelle Engelhardt, Envy’s owner, and her team know a quick errand can become an entire afternoon. The shop carries easy graphic tees, casual hats, and accessories for just that sort of day, whether the ceramic goose comes home or stays put.

At Envy Stylz Boutique, we love a little personality, good company, and clothes you can actually enjoy your day in. A quick errand with a friend counts as a perfectly good outing. No goose required. And if your shopping adventures continue on the couch, our online shopping habits story may sound familiar.

You can meet Michelle and read the story behind the boutique here. Come see us when you’re in the mood for a little Southern and Western fun.

And send this to the friend who would’ve told you to buy the goose.

She knows who she is. She’s probably already named him.