That Sunday Marshalls Run… Or So I Thought
So, there I was last Sunday, or maybe it was the one before, doesn’t really matter. The point is, I got this sudden urge, you know? Like, I absolutely needed to go to Marshalls. Don’t ask me why. Probably saw some influencer haul and thought, “Yeah, I need another oddly-shaped ceramic pot for a plant I don’t own yet.” Classic me.
Anyway, first hurdle: what time do they even bother opening, or more importantly, closing on a Sunday? It’s always a crapshoot with those places. Not like your big grocery stores that are practically open 24/7. Marshalls, TJ Maxx, HomeGoods… they play by their own rules, especially on the Lord’s day, or whatever.
My first brilliant move, obviously, was to whip out my phone. Typed in “marshalls hours sunday” like any normal human being would. And what do I get? A mess. That’s what. One site says 10 AM to 6 PM. Another one, looking kinda official but who knows, says 11 AM to 7 PM. Then you see those little “user-suggested hours” things, and some dude named “Bob_Likes_Deals_69” says they close at 5 PM. Real helpful, Bob.
I even tried going to the actual Marshalls website. Navigated through about three different pages, trying to find a “store locator” that wasn’t trying to sell me a new credit card. Finally found my local store, and the hours listed were just “Sunday: See Store for Details.” Seriously? “See Store for Details”? How am I supposed to see the store for details if I don’t know when to go see the store?! It’s like they want to make it a scavenger hunt just to give them my money.
I thought about calling. I really did. Picked up the phone, even dialed the first few numbers. Then I imagined the hold music, the crackly speaker, someone who sounds like they’re a million miles away and couldn’t care less. Nah. Hung up. Not worth the aggravation. Some battles you just don’t fight.
So, what did I do? I just winged it. Figured I’d aim for early afternoon. If they’re open, great. If not, well, I guess the universe didn’t want me to buy another discounted scented candle that smells vaguely of “old library” and “disappointment.”
Turns out, my local one was open until 7 PM that particular Sunday. Got there around 3 PM. Place was a zoo, as usual. Full of other people who probably also had no clue when it opened or closed and just showed up hoping for the best. Maybe that’s their secret strategy. Keep ’em guessing, keep ’em coming.
It just gets me, though. We live in this age of instant information, right? Got supercomputers in our pockets. But finding out if a store is open on a Sunday still feels like deciphering ancient hieroglyphics sometimes. You’d think they’d make it a bit easier for us to, you know, give them our cash. But hey, what do I know? I just buy the weird pots.
