Sunday, September 8, 2013

Why this big box ...

My favorite Big Box store has a counterpart in Superior, Wis., that is minus the whole "super" designation. It's less a sibling store than the step-sibling store. Like,  if before she met the love of her life, Target's mom got knocked up at a high school rager by a guy who still, 20 years later, wears the letter jacket he barely earned before his wrestling career was interupted by a contageous skin virus.

So the step-sibling is fine. Maybe it had a few rough years with mom, trying to pinch child support from cauliflower ear. Now it has settled into a modest adulthood free of pretention. It has just half a load of genes in common with Duluth and tolerates Duluth at holidays, weddings and funerals, but otherwise finds its sister to be an entitled twit. Likewise, Duluth admires her sister's moxie, but finds her to be a little too raw.

Here are five reasons I went to the Superior store on Saturday:

1. Who knows when I took  my last shower.

Ordinarily this would be fine, aside from something resembling condensed milk dandruffing the insides of my tank top*, but the past two days have been Grandma's kitchen hot and I've gone for three long, sweaty walks in this period. Oddly enough, my hair looks fine. Good almost. Like a ballet dancer. It's just the ripe smell made from salty skin and crevices that is the cause for pause.

Anyway, I'm not going to see anyone I know at this store. Heck, I might not see anyone, period. (More on that later).

2. It feels exotic to travel to Wisconsin for Pampers.

3. I'd originally planned to go to a different brand of Big Box in my neighborhood, a dismal place bolstered by Martha Stewart bedding. This is the perfect place to take an infant who might spontaneously erupt into tears or an unapologetic fart fest. No one would notice mine over the sound of the other infants wailing and farting.

The same rules apply at this current Big Box, though it would not exist at the same brand of Big Box, the one I usually go to in my own city.

4. No one shops here. If I told you that you were assured a parking spot within the first three stalls after the Handicap Parking during peak hours on Saturday at this Big Box in any other city, you'd tell me to shut the front door. What if I also mentioned that they had just one cashier working and that was more than enough?

This also means that I lingered an obscenely long time in the baby aisles, taking photographs of various products and texting them to Chuck. I never worried about Not Hogging the Fisher Price.

If I were you and I lived in Duluth and I had hemmerhoids or anything else that requires ointment, I'd buy it at this Big Box's location.

5. I think it's closer to my house, technically.

NOTE
* The flaking isn't actually condensed milk. I'm just being colorful. It's actually from the fungal ointment I'm using to treat breast yeast. Enjoy your lunch!

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