“…I’m like ‘nnh-chik-nnh-chik-nnh-chik-nnh-chik-nnh-chik…”
“…no way…”
“…nnh-chik-nnh-chik-nnh-chik….”
“…duuude…”
“…nnh-chik-nnh-chik-nnh-chik…”
“Awesome.”
Confused? That’s ok, I was too. Team Member Jeff is telling a story to Team Member Ivan. I couldn’t tell what the point of the story was because the little snippet that I typed was but the smallest portion of what I heard. But ON A LOOP. That’s right, when you start at the top, and read to the word “awesome”, go back and do it again. Forever. It was oddly rhythmic and compelling.
Jeff and Ivan are stocking shelves. Between them is a little cart with several boxes. As I’m standing there they’re taking turns pulling yoga mats out of the box and putting them on the shelf. I hovered next to them, seemingly watching them.
But I wasn’t. I was in Purgatory, staring at a Hell Mouth. You see, when I’m uninspired, lazy, or bored, I’ve made it a habit to grab my car keys and leave. Change my scenery, do something to scramble my day. The problem today was Her. I’ve got a limited time to shop for Her for Christmas, and I’m inspirationally bankrupt. I love buying Her gifts, and I’d like to think I’ve done it pretty well. But this year, I’ve got no great ideas. Shitloads of boring ones, but no good ones. So I hopped in the car and pointed it in a direction, one that would hopefully take me to the perfect retail location. I ended up at Target.
Ugh, it didn’t start well. First, Target? Good lord man, at least look like you’re trying. I wound up in the sporting goods department, staring at exercise gear, listening to Jeff and Ivan. I find myself thinking “Troy, these two troglodytes don’t know Her. They absolutely will not be pulling the perfect gift out of that box of yoga mats.” Now I’m resolutely nodding to myself, empowered. “Now shake it off and go find The Perfect Gift.”
So I left Target and headed to Retail Mecca Option 2, energized and optimistic. But first, a soda. I step into the grocery store anchoring the shopping center and get a Coke Zero. I pop the top and head out, confident in the knowledge that successful gift buying is imminent. I step out the door, take my first step down the sidewalk…
Ok, I live in suburban Minneapolis. But for this purpose it could be suburban Anywhere, or Everywhere. I’m at your typical new-ish strip mall. You know the one, Grocery store, Petco, Barnes & Noble, Old Navy, Michael’s, Bed Bath and No One Gives A Shit, Staples, etc.
…and had this crazy idea that if I just keep walking, eventually the stores will just start repeating. And I thought, will they be stocked exactly the same? “Duh,” I answered myself. “Of course they’ll be stocked the same.”
“…I’m like ‘nnh-chik-nnh-chik-nnh-chik…”
“…no way…”
“…nnh-chik-nnh-chik-nnh-chik….”
“…duuude…”
“…nnh-chik-nnh-chik-nnh-chik…”
“Awesome.”
So now I’m home, Xbox controller in hand, hoping there’s something in the Post-apocalyptic Zombie Wasteland that she’ll really love this year. I’m sure I’ll run into a Party City if I just keep walking.
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