I really do not like shopping centres.
I think they serve a purpose, but I do not enjoy being in them.
This is a story about being in one.
There was a raffle at work on Friday.
It was free and everyone who is still at work was automatically in the draw, so long as they hadn’t won anything at the raffle that was run on the previous week.
I won second prize, which was a $250 Westfield gift voucher.
I guess that if you give most of your soul and life to a company that doesn’t understand what a person is unless they’re kissing ass, it’s only fair that you’re given a chance to win a token gesture.
But I digress.
So I won the voucher, which I decided I would use to either get a tripod or to do my food shopping over the next five weeks.
I ended up choosing the latter as I thought it would be a better in the long run.
The closest Westfield to me that has a supermarket I can use the voucher at (a Woolworths), is in Bondi Junction.
I woke up earlier than I had hoped I would today as I spent a good portion of last night drunk, among other things, and went to bet late.
I was lucky to wake up without a hangover, but I still felt tired.
I was hoping to go for a swim in the morning, but I ended up not.
After having a late breakfast, I made my way to Bondi Junction as quickly as I could to get shopping out of the way.
I planned to go to what I thought was a National Geographic store first, as I wanted to see what they had.
I entered Westfield and after about a minute of being inside, I realised I couldn’t remember where things were.
I have been to Westfield in Bondi Junction plenty of times, but as I was flat, being there was a bit more than I could handle at the time.
My memory, noticing this, said “I’m out”, and got out of there as quickly as it could, leaving me to try and navigate on my own.
I thought the shop I was looking for was at an entirely different end, so I went up a few floors, then walked for a while.
It wasn’t there.
I then went back, then headed off to a food court that I was I thought was near the shop I was looking for, but it wasn’t there either.
I began to realise that I was lost, so I looked for a directory as I had seen a few around.
I spent about five minutes looking for one.
Whilst I was looking, I remembered a joke I heard in the morning (Why couldn’t the cat drink it’s milk? Because it didn’t have a face), and laughed.
When I reached one, I searched for National Geographic, only to find out the store I was looking for was called Australian Geographic.
I also found out that I had to use a couple of escalators near the entrance I used to get into Westfield to get there.
Soon enough I was at the store and it didn’t take me long to realise that it didn’t have what I wanted.
I checked out another store nearby before beginning my hunt for Woolworths.
I ended up back at the Australian Geographic store and didn’t realise how, so I thought that maybe if I went further down, I would be able to find it.
Before I did, I saw a camera store and went in to ask about tripods, advising that I would be purchasing during the week.
I was given some basic information, then told to look at what they had online and then come in when I was ready.
That is crappy customer service.
If you have a prospective buyer, don’t brush them off.
Anyway, I thanked the person who “assisted” me, then went down into the dark depths of lower parking.
I hoped to come across another directory but instead wandered around for a while in the hopes I would find an exit that would take me to Woolworths.
I did find one, much to my relief.
Woolworths came with more problems for me though.
I was in there for somewhere around twenty-five minutes trying to find things.
Fifteen minutes were spent looking for tofu.
I had to ask for assistance as I kept walking past it without realising.
I had an easier time in Japan.
Once I was out of Westfield, everything became easy again.
Being in there was a bit more of a challenge than I thought it would be.
To be honest, I thought writing about this bit of writing would have been more interesting, but it seems a bit banal.
I’m having a bit of trouble conveying how lost I felt.
I really did feel that way for most of the time I was in Westfield as, despite recognising plenty of things there and knowing where I was, I had no idea as to where I was.
Also, ending up in the underground parking area was partially an accident.
I didn’t feel I had any other options other than to wander when I didn’t see a directory there.