The Mock Dock

As you all know, it is very unlike me to be cynical or even sarcastic. I tend to see life not as a half-empty glass (reality is I look at the glass and wonder who the hell stole my water…jerk…you better hope I don’t find you). Anyway, I just returned home from an excursion that drew my snark to the forefront…

I stopped in to a local retail big-box-store, which I won’t name (for legal reasons), but if I were shooting an arrow against the likes of a Robin Hood, we would both be aiming at this very concentric design.

I, of course would hit the bulls-eye, drawing the affection of the beautiful, brunette maiden with the ample bosom and 4 or 5 perfectly placed tattoos. And, as I dream of resting my weary head upon such glorious flesh mounds and gazing up in to her eyes lightly obscured by her cats-eye glasses, Robin Hood would step up, in his stupid sac-munching tights, and split my centered arrow in two.

Obviously, his prowess with this long, thin wood supersedes my skill and draws the maiden’s attention. It is then that she regrets the amazing artwork on her skin, elects to have them removed via laser-erasure (also a kicking name for an 80’s acid band featuring the swirling guitar riffs of Johnny Marr and the haunting voice of Ian McCulloch). She would then allow her hair to grow to her shoulders, purchase a Volvo station-wagon which she and Robin can park in their garage behind their tan cookie-cutter house.resting on a cul-de-sac named after great racehorses or speech-impaired natural events.

I, on the other hand, am left to shoot my arrow wildly around town, drinking away my victories and awaking to my defeats in my loft. I digress….

Anyway, as I entered the store this morning and schlepped my way down the main aisle of the store, passing the checker-outers, passing the greeting cards (which so are not funny…I mean really…the only job on earth that creates more failure than a humor greeting card writer is a weather predictor…Hallmark…if you are reading this, I am only kidding and would love to work for you…American Greetings…if you are reading this…I am not kidding…you cards suck…Generic off-brands…nice job on some of the stuff, but when will I get a real gut-level laugh from a Bar Mitzvah card?…it is time to step up your game) I digress….

As I motored on, I was assaulted by a very chipper, smiley, and enthusiastic red-shirted, tan-trousered teenager who asked in her perky, “I just passed my Chem test!”-manner, “Can I help you find something?”

I mean … really? She had no idea where I was going, what I needed, if I was even going to stop in her section. So, I realized that the farthest thing from where I was standing in the store was the automotive section. I simply asked if she could point me to the “Betty Boop Air Fresherners for my car.” She walked with me the entire distance. While we walked, I asked her for help finding many other things: my dignity, my future, my dreams, my long-lost lust for life, my enlightenment. To each of these inquiries, she simply responded with a smile and, “Huh, I don’t think we have that here. Let me check with a manager.”

After we had scuttled along seemingly miles of tiles and racks, we came upon the air fresheners, only to find that the Betty Boop hanger was empty. (Never thought I would say that in my lifetime).

I thanked this cherub for her willingness to be the only human interaction that this lonely, self-hating old man would have today. And she simply smiled.

I learned a lot from this uniformed, angel sent to sate my need for hope. She taught me this, and now I pass it on to you… there are a lot of people out there with Betty-freaking-Boop hanging from their rear-view mirrors….freaks!

Absurdly yours,

Holmes