Tonight We May Lose The Battle

My Tuesday night ritual typically consists of me bumming around in Southpoint Common in Red Deer before going to see a movie. This would be a bad idea and extremely expensive if I had more money to spend. Thankfully, I don't, so I ended up going to Value Village last night in a bid to waste time before watching Juno.

It was extremely busy there last night. If I didn't have the focus of a sugar-rushing toddler I'd have noticed the signs in the window, but it took an announcement over the intercom for me to recognize that there was a 50% off sale going on. At first I thought, "Really? A 50% off sale at Value Freakin' Village is something to get that excited over?" It then dawned on me that there are probably starving families who need this kind of thing to make ends meet, and I was promptly humbled. Then I tripped over one of the constant stream of Hutterites and I promptly went back to being surly and cynical.

A short while ago I'd be able to walk into the place and have enough clothes to last for six months, but the effects of time on both my appearance and my disposition have put an end to that. Now I don't like a cool "ironic" dude, I just look like some sad wino. Of course, I probably always looked like some sad wino. It's just taken me this long to realize it.

God, I hate buying shirts. It's something I used to love until I realized every shirt looks perfectly ridiculous on me. The upper half of my torso looks smashing in a large! Really it does. But then these idiot love handles make my lower half look like an overstuffed bean-bag chair. And of course, if I swap it around and wear an extra large, my upper half is swimming in fabric. One of my friends once asked if I was wearing a maternity shirt. I suppose there's always tailoring.

Once I finally made it to the till in the checkout lane, the rather frazzled clerk asked "How are you today, sir?". I immediately replied with a very sunny "Good! How are you!" I don't know if you've noticed this but if you say this in a very busy store the clerk will stare at you like a dog that's been shown a card trick.

Wir sagen Willkomen, Bienvenue, Welcome...