I guess this means I'm a shopaholic

"Haven't I seen you here before?"

I wasn't in a seedy bar. This question wasn't asked by a drunk trying to get lucky. No, this scene played itself out in an Aldo store.

"Yeah, I know I've seen you in here a few times recently." The sales guy has an "Aha!" look on his face as he points an i-know-you finger at me.

I smile, amused and flattered but eventually slightly embarrassed. He's right. I had been in that store a few times recently. What he doesn't know is I've been in an Aldo store at another location recently as well. And what only my trunk and closet know is I've been in many stores at many locations recently, each time carrying out adorable loot in my re-usable shopping bags—my sorry attempt to be altruistic amidst my self-fulfilling addiction.

Though this guy had no ulterior motive in saying what he said to me, or was probably just trying to get another sale out of me, those 6 words caught me like spotlights catch escaped convicts as they attempt a jail break.

Caught.

It all became blindingly clear. I shop so much that the sales people are starting to see me as "a regular." Not good. Not good for my closet. Not good for my bank account and credit cards. Not good period.

I smile at him, he's sweet-looking, the kind of guy I'd have a crush on in junior high.

"I guess that means I shop too much."

"I didn't mean it like that." He's suddenly embarrassed for me. Again, not good. "It's just good for us to know our customers." His explanation is plausible, but we both know it's an attempt to save face—my face.

"Well, I'm just looking today."

"Ok. Let me know if I can help you with anything."

He walks away and I look around, admiring the heels and wedges and sandals and flats. I build outfits in my head, imagining the perfect sun dress or skinny jeans or accessory that will compliment each pair. I sigh internally. I remember the stack of boxes at home. I remember my dwindling bank account and the growing balance on my credit cards. I remember the heavy feeling of guilt and remorse that closely follows the initial but fleeting feeling of exhilaration and joy each purchase brings me.

I sigh again and walk out. I have to stop. And thanks to this Aldo shoes sales guy with the cute, boyish smile, his question was just the slap in the face I needed.

My name is Carina Zaragoza. And I am was a shopaholic.