The whole reason I decided to go to K-Mart was to find a new digital camera. Well, that was one reason. Also because everything there is almost free, and I hadn't been out of the house in days. We need a new digital camera because I can't find our old one. Turned this place upside down. Inside out. On the other side of the world, Papa's waiting for pics of his sweet baby. Sony nowhere to be found. I have suspicions. I try to push them to the back of my mind. Don't want to think what I think happened to it.
But the matter is, I need a camera and a cheap one. I hit the aisles thinking, if I can find one at half price or less, I'm going to buy it. If I find the Sony, then we'll have two. So what. Doesn't everyone?
I head back to electronics, high with the possibilities, only to find that it's gutted. Doesn't exist anymore. Roped off with crime scene tape, or its nearest cousin, "caution." Shit. I should have left the house days ago. Let this be a lesson to us all. Leave the house at least every other day. New mantra for me.
Since I was there, I decided to check out the rest of the stock, which was thin but interesting. Luggage had possibilities. Two shelves left, but nothing was marked, and I had visions of standing on line forever only to find out I couldn't afford it. My resolve: Don't put anything in my cart that doesnt' have a price on it. Move on. More aisles to explore.
I see the picture frames. Rows and rows of them. I wonder why? The age of digital. Who frames pictures anymore. I see the sign above the frames, appealing to the webless, "Frames 75% off... Preserving memories for generations." No thanks, I blog.
My reason for being here gone, I wonder what I'm looking for. Fake nails were 75% off. pass. Makeup 75% off. pass. Patio chairs, pass. A shelf load of d-CON. I wonder why. pass. I hear a guy talking to his wife, or I think it's his wife. He's holding a cheapy PDA. Regularly $30. What could it do for $30, now 50% off?
"You need the Web for that," she tells him.
"Hell, I know that," he says.
She thinks about it for a minute, puts it in the cart and says, "Happy Father's Day." I wonder if she's thinking it's about time her man gets online, checks out some of those girly sites, brings new tricks to the bedroom. I wonder if he's thinking, finally, gonna get me some net. Jenna Jameson, here I come. But it's the "Happy Father's Day" that touches my heart. No, really.
Keep walking. Score some notebooks. Happy about that, since I've started writing things down again.
Cat food for my next door neighbor's cats--only $1.00 for the bag. I can't resist. Damn cats are always in my house. Our neighbor has been away in rehab since January, and even though folks stop by and feed his four cats once in a while, they are wild in their wanting, for food and strokes. For a buck, I can make them happy all week. Money well spent.
I happen upon a shelf that makes me smile. Loaded with shower heads. Has to be at least 50 of them, of all designs and colors. Massage this, relax that. Calgon take me away. I need a new one anyhow, being that the one we have is leaking now in places it shouldn't, so I look closer. Wow. check this one out:
The Interbath Rio. Refreshing showers from 72 spray channels. Powerful, variable speed massage, combination sprays, and trickle valve. Lifetime warranty to boot. I toss it in the cart before I look closer, where at the top of the plastic box, I see words from the marketing hacks written just for me:
"Escape without Leaving Home."
A+ for the Interbath positionig exercise that uncovered my urgent need.
I'm thinking it's time to go. As I head to the checkout I see another goodie I can't pass up. Called JaimIt, from Jam, it's "The digital sound mixer for online fun." Okay. Let's check it out. Records, warps, syncs, and shares voice online. Adds sounds to pictures. No, I don't really need it, but let's see how much. Regularly $50. Turns out with the discount it's $10. And what sold me: $20 rebate waiting for me online. So, in a nutshell, it's free, and if a really stupid rep opens my rebate envelope, I stand to make $10 on the deal.
I toss it in, thinking I should buy them all and sell 'em on ebay, but don't want to front the money. Decide to be happy with what I found and go home. Find out later it's a good thing, since no one seems to be buying.
Checkout was uneventful. Surprisingly. And I'm heading back to my Pacer on steroids, when a kid walks up to me. Red jersey, #64, hip-hop and bad as a motherfucker, but trying not to be, one foot in gangstahood, one foot on the right track. He's got a box. He's selling if I'm buying. Peanut brittle. I don't like peanut brittle, but I like the kid.
Gives me his rap, something about staying off drugs, off the street, selling this peanut brittle to raise money for something or other. Tries to shove a piece of paper into my hand that explains it better than he can, but I don't need the paper.
"What's your name?" I ask.
"Kielan," he says.
"Let me see what you've got in there," I say looking in the box, where I found his loot wasn't selling so well. Maybe one's gone. I'm thinking, in Kennesaw, Georgia, Kielan, you're lucky they haven't run you off this lot by now.
"How much for the cashew-nut brittle?"
I open my purse, look through my ones, hand them one at a time as I rummage through and find them, just seeing if he bolts with $3 or waits to finish the deal. And he does wait. We finish the transaction, I tell him good luck, and he walks across the parkinglot, stands a gainst a lamp pole. I decide to sit there for a few minutes in the van, seeing if he goes up to anyone else. He doesn't. Of course, I already knew that.
My big question now, besides how do I hook up this new shower head, is who wants the cashew brittle? I haven't opened it. I don't like the stuff. Any takers? I'll send it free to the person who makes the 15th comment on this post, unless you're international. Then you pay shipping.
Get busy. Maybe you can score too. Bring a little bit of Kielan into your day.