After a hike yesterday, Kathy and I stopped in to a convenience store to -- well, to completely obliterate whatever health benefits we achieved by hiking. (Still, it's good for the soul, right?) But as I roamed the aisles for a snack, I noticed what will possibly be the most disturbing thing I'll see all month. (And this is likely the month we do our taxes, so that's saying something.) What caught my eye?
The Magazine Rack of the Damned.
It wasn't much of a magazine rack -- just a wire, free-standing job. And it had only three magazines on it: One issue of Penthouse and two copies of Seventeen magazine. Right next to each other.
And in this shady little store that seemed to do most of its business in lottery tickets, I had to wonder: How many of its customers were picking up both?
(Shudder.)
Rob
4 comments:
mentse
I can't even remember when I last saw a wire magazine rack (not counting the intentionally retro Hey-Kids-Comics! wire spinner rack at Showcase Comics).
Where was this store, anyway? I can totally picture it: dust-coated shelves stocked with only one or two of any item, many of which are themselves dusty; marks on the stained linoleum floor showing in sun-faded outlines the way shelves and displays were arranged when Nixon was president; refrigerator case empty of anything for which an expiration date might really matter; behind a fenceline of beef jerky and Slim-Jims, the cash register counter is cluttered with lots of odd impulse-buy items for which you can't imagine what sort of impulse might drive you to buying. (Although, in full disclosure, I must confess that it was in just this kind of clutter that I saw and on impulse bought my dear Fire Cow bovine-shaped butane lighter, but, honestly, how could I be expected to pass up a cow lighter that shoots twin flames out of its nostrils?)
Oh -- that "mentse" was the word verification key for my above comment.
I must've tapped the touchpad on my iBook and set the cursor back to the top of the text window by accident.
"Mentse," indeed. That's nothing compared to bltinexa!
A cow that shoots flames out its nostrils is really my greatest hope for the future.
This was a Welsh Farms near a park where Kathy & I went hiking the other day -- the park was called Shark River Park -- not sure what the town was called....
"Limping Gulch," perhaps?
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