the black friday back-room shopping-fugitive blues

It is indeed a very Black Friday.

I have already this morning beaten a man to within an inch of his life with a broken tire from someone’s abandoned shopping cart after the fool came between me and this store’s last FurReal Friends Get Up and GoGo My Walkin’ Pup, though the wretched toy was unboxed, covered in shelf dirt and people grime, and slightly damaged, to where it simply moves around in a small circle, like it’s endlessly about to do its business on the floor, and all the while getting hopelessly tangled in its leash. Still, it was the very last one!

And I’ll tell you this: That little stuffed dog is surely not the only one now walking with a limp! I asked that guy nicely to put it down, since it was clear I’d gotten to it first, and he just looked at me wildly, backing away from me with the toy gripped like a football, and calling me a name I won’t debase this posting by including. And then I’m not sure what happened, though at one point I caught a glimpse of myself in a piece of window glass, and I kinda looked like one of those crazed apes in Kubrick’s 2001: A Space Odyssey, where they’re smashing up bones with other bones.

Except I had the broken wheel, of course.

I am hiding now as I type this into my phone, my pathetic little dog toy stuffed in here beside me in the dark vast back room of this smelly store, which I will not now name out of concern for my own safety. I am crouched down between endless pallets of boxed Frozen Snow Glow Elsa dolls that are apparently being hoarded by management to start some sort of shopping frenzy later in the day. Someone would seem to have put batteries in one of them, and it’s really, really creepy, the unreal light coming out of the box like that.

In any event, I won’t be able to stay here for too long. Just until I think the police have finally left, along with the bored local TV reporters. Then I will sneak out of here, and try to finally sort out why I have this filthy toy when I actually have no young children. Still, that other guy didn’t get the thing, and that’s what counts here. Because that means I win Christmas, right?

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