--Earlier in the week Toney and I made a grand proclamation.All four of us, we said, would chip in and clean the house
every Saturday morning, and wouldn’t go anywhere until it was done.The insane schedule we keep makes it difficult to stay on top
of things, and all of us need to shoulder part of the responsibility.
So, we got out of bed on Saturday, the first Saturday, and Toney
looked at me over her coffee mug and said, “I don’t feel like
cleaning, do you?”I
said, “I never feel like cleaning,” and that was that.So much for grand proclamations…
We had a few things we needed to take care of, and started at AAA in
downtown Scranton.There we traded some American money for British money.Rather, we traded some American money for the
promise of British money.They have to get it from a bank in NYC, and it takes two
business days.
I know there are ATMs all over London, but I think fees are usually at
the jail-rape setting.We’re
already upside-down with the exchange rate, we don’t need to make
matters worse with “international exchange fees” and other
nonsensical code-phrases for legalized theft.AAA members don’t have to pay any fees whatsoever, so we
ordered enough pounds sterling to at least get us started.
While there, a retarded man had an “episode” over by the travel
pamphlets, and started grunting and moaning and flailing his arms
around like a tap-dancer during The Big Finish.Another person rushed over and started rubbing the man’s
back, and tried to soothe him:“It’s
OK Billy, it’s just a picture of a steam engine.It’s nothing to get upset about…”
What the?
Beside the cash register was a framed sign that said something like,
“Anyone who verbally abuses an employee will be asked to leave.”I thought that was kinda funny, and asked the woman if it’s a
common occurrence.“Happens
all the time,” she said.
At AAA??What do people
do, get all whipped into a frenzy during a heated luggage tag
conversation?I sincerely
don’t understand.
From there we went to Sam’s Club, and had a cheap lunch at their
snack bar.I had two of
their big Hebrew National emasculation dogs, and a root beer.I toyed with the idea of trying relish for the first time in my
life, but couldn’t do it.What
if I didn’t like it, and the dogs were ruined?It was simply too risky, so I went with sauerkraut and mustard
instead.
We looked around for a few minutes, and the oldest Secret showed me a
new Playstation (or was it Wii?) game based on Napoleon
Dynamite.I asked him what the object of it was, and he didn’t know.After a few minutes of discussion, we decided it was probably
“grating cheese and feeding Tina.”
I bought two gargantuan long-sleeve t-shirts and Toney picked up a few
items from the toiletries department.Our cashier, some doucheketeer roughly nineteen years of age,
swooned,“Oh, this is
just the best
shampoo.”
And he and Toney proceeded to have a lengthy conversation about hair
care products, as I stood nearby and listened in amazement.I was watching him, and the dude didn’t act obviously gay,
there was no pronounced straightness of the back, or anything.But he had strong and well-researched opinions about shampoo.Baffling.
As we were leaving, a large man in a retina-searing NASCAR jacket
barked at us:“YOU WANT
TO BUY SOME GIRL SCOUT COOKIES?!”Sweet Maria!His
tone seemed to add “I SUGGEST YOU DO” to the end of his question.
But, now that he mentioned (hollered) it, an entire sleeve of Thin
Mints would
hit the spot.So I walked
over to the table where three or four little girls were awaiting, and
bought two boxes of cookies for seven
freakin’ dollars.Isn’t that kind of expensive?Seven bucks??Man,
that’s a lot of money for fifteen minutes-worth of cookies.
I needed some new tennis shoes, or sneakers, or whatever you want to
call them.I have to walk
a lot at my new job, and my shoes are taking a beating.I don’t want to go on vacation wearing a pair of stank-ass
ragged-out Skechers, so Toney suggested we try JCPenney.Supposedly they were having a sale.
The mall was packed, and I had a hard time finding a parking space
within a mile of the door.At
one point I thought I’d located a really good one, but it turned out
to be a handicapped spot.
This reminded me of something Rocky used to say in such situations:“Oh man, that one’s for the handicapped.Some people have all the luck!”I used the line, and Toney didn’t see any humor in it; none
whatsoever.Here’s some
video footage of her after I said it.Good times.
When we finally went inside the store, we had to pass through the
men’s underwear department.And
I’m always amazed at what I see there.Like underwear on hangers, for instance.And underwear in tubes.And
full-on panties being passed-off as menswear.It’s nothing short of hilarious.
Man, both of my grandfathers would spin in their graves like
egg-beaters if I ever purchased such an item.
I ended up buying a new pair of non-stank Skechers, priced at $55, but
costing $29 after all the Toney-orchestrated discounts.I’ll start wearing them one-week before we leave, so they
don’t look all bright and retarderiffic on our trip.
My parents requested we
put Black Lips Houlihan in a harness when we leave him with them,
because they've seen the hound do a Houdini trick and get out of his
regular collar. They're terrified he'll run away while they're in
charge, and get wedged 'neath the wheels of a sausage truck or
something.
So
after the mall we went to PetSmart. Or is it PetsMart? I don't know,
and don't really care.
Toney and the Secrets like going into such stores, but I don't
understand the attraction.There's
always a hint of feces in the air, sometimes birds come swooping down
at you from the rafters, and one time I saw a man step in a puddle of
neon-yellow piss and his right leg went flying up to almost shoulder
level.I'm not kidding, it was
like something off the cartoons.
We browsed at all the hilarious pet products they peddle to suckers
there, like dog strollers and house slippers for your cat, or
whatever.Then we checked out
the harnesses, and saw they cost roughly twice as much as we'd
guessed.
"I'll
look at Wal-Mart next time I'm there," Toney said.And that sounded good to me.I
was just busy watching for piss-slicks and parakeets with nothing to
lose.
The older Secret wanted to look at the caged house cats, and Toney
went with him.No way I was
going near those things, and hung back with the older boy.We're both allergic, and I just have very little interest in
retail kittens that come in "code blue" from Central Feline
Fulfillment on the Thursday truck.
Then Toney wanted to look at the fish, and with every lungful of air I
was convinced I was also taking in a quarter-pound of vaporized shit
mist. The place was rank, but I couldn't get my family out of there.
You know, I try not to be a complete
stick in the mud, I really do, but what's so great about watching fish
swim around in a clear box?I
never understood it, not even as a kid.And some of those things are like tumors with a face.They look more like a serving of mashed potatoes than an
animal. I just don't get it.
I
finally coaxed everyone out of the store, but not before encountering
a freakin' greyhound, or whippet, or somesuch, walking around on its
tip-toes and shooting me dirty looks.The
thing seemed to be menacing me with its pointed tail, which I think
was coiled and ready to strike.
I'm convinced we made it out just in time.
From there we went to Target, and that was no fun.I saw a guy wearing a dress shirt straight out of the package,
with the big square creases in it and everything.I have no doubt he'd left at least three pins in the thing as
well.But it wasn't enough to
make up for the crush of people there, getting in my way and
triggering my bitch-gland.
Oh, and I recognized a local news reporter shopping for CDs with his
apparent boyfriend.That was
exciting.And I bought a Dean
Koontz paperback, and two more of those discontinued pens I love.They're nothing fancy, PaperMate I think, but they're perfect,
and now hard to find.So I buy
a package whenever I see 'em.
Every time I go into Target I look at a Guinness pub clock they sell
there, with lust in my heart.Man,
that thing would be a perfect addition to the Bunker Collection, it's
very cool.But it also
costs fifty bucks, and I can't justify it.Someday I'm hoping to find it marked down to a closeout price,
but so far I've had no luck.Stupid
full-price clock…
We were burned-out on all the retail crapola, so we headed for home.I made a detour to the beer store, where the guy was blasting
AC/DC ("Shoot to Thrill" to be exact).I bought a case of Yuengling Lager from him ($15.89 with tax),
and called it a day.
After we dragged our purchases inside, I poured me and Toney an adult
beverage each.Then I flipped
through a London tour book, while she started
dinner.When we finished
eating, and cleaning up, the Secrets and I watched three episodes of Monty
Python.All were exceedingly bizarre, and one featured a giant dessert
playing tennis.
When
the boys went to bed Toney and I watched Michael
Clayton.It was good, I guess, but not spectacular.I'd heard nothing but raves about that flick, but wasn't fully
blown away.But, what do I know
about it, really?If I were
you, I wouldn't listen to a word I say on the subject.
There was a little excitement about halfway through the movie…We were sitting there watching, when Toney suddenly gasped and
told me she'd just seen a mouse.
Wha'?A mouse, inside the
Compound?Man, that's no good,
that's no good at all.I asked
where, and she said it was walking around the JCPenney bag that
contained my new shoes."Are
you sure?" I asked."Yeah,
I think so," she answered.
So I slipped on my old shoes, which were nearby, and gave my new shoes
some kind of modified fat-boy flying kung-fu kick.Toney was laughing her ass off at that, which made me wonder if
she was just screwing with my head.But
I could tell she was serious.
Yeah, but we never saw any further evidence of the "mouse."I didn't see it or hear it, and after a few minutes Toney began
wondering if she'd imagined the whole thing.Simply excellent.
And that was our Saturday.Did
you do anything exciting?You
know, as opposed to us?Let's
hear about it, if you did.Use
the comments link below.
