Power shopping

 

To the editor,

 

The bowling alley is gone! No, seriously. Gone! I just noticed. Oh, you’re thinking, “Joe’s been texting while driving.” But I never text while driving and here’s why. My cell phone’s keyboard is designed for African Pygmy fingers. 

The missing bowling alley was filled with wondrous experiences. A place where you could wear shoes purchased during the Eisenhower Administration. Or stick your finger in a ball used by someone who never washed after … you know … going #2. It was exciting, suspenseful, invigorating, and socializing with constant friendly banter such as, “Crud, a baby split!” or “Hey, who sat on my nachos?”

I’m partially to blame. I didn’t bowl often. Not because I wasn’t an adept bowler -- regularly rolling around the lucky 100 mark. I suspect it was a lack of positive self-concept. There I’d be, nervously figuring out which arrow, dot, cosmic force on the lane to use as a guide, experimenting with standing straight or crouching, holding my butt firm or letting it sag, twisting the ball to and fro, and praying it would hit the floor before hitting the pins. With that kind of pressure, I stayed home and read romance novels.

Now we have a $ Store with discount “power-shopping” under one roof and clean tile floors. Inconceivable! The new $ store will provide a fluorescentized environment with products imported from distant continents. Daily, Rhode Island sized barges are crossing the mighty Pacific Ocean with precious Chinese merchandise for us Americans to consume. You see, like Obama crafting a disastrous healthcare program, it’s what we do best.

The lure of a whole building of cheap items is positively breathtaking. Reminiscent of a flock of Canadian Geese flying into a golden sunset -- except geese don’t carry spatulas. And any self-respecting $ store would -- tons of them ... and little magnetic pickup things bobbing around on a flexible metal shaft. Why, there’s no telling what consumptious delights might be found.

It’s just sad there’s one less place in Dillon for tantalizing entertainment. But maybe the $ store will suffice. Next time I take the wife on a date, I’ll suggest, “Hey, let’s hit the dollar store. Look, it has 14 multi-colored wooden spoons for a buck!” My wife won’t mind. She’s always been a cheap date. I just hope I get my weekly allowance in time. At that store, my dollar will go a long way.

 

Joe Barnhart

Dillon