Sunday I visited REI with my housemates. I’d always directed a thrifty disinterest towards the store, as most of the items are so costly I’d not consider becoming a regular shopper.
One of my housemates spent $72 on socks, and both insisted they were well worth the price. Frankly, if I’m going to drop that type of money on 3 pairs of socks, they better make love to my feet.
As I dilly-dallied in the store while waiting for them to complete their transactions, my eyes were opened to a whole new world of things I never knew I needed! Garishly purple clogs, plastic egg tupperware, $90 hats.
It was a nearly mystical experience, as consumerism goes, and I flirted with the idea of scandalizing said housemates. I’d walk over with a pair of silk men’s underwear, loudly proclaiming to all bystanders that I had my silken “junk-trunks,” and that we could finally depart. Doubtless I’d have been looked at askance–especially by the fake-baked valley girl in the shoe department.
Honestly, if my nefarious plan had borne its seductive fruit, and prompted looks of indignation, I’d have upped-the-ante with an innately smarmy follow-up…something along the lines of, “I see you checking out my package. You only wish you could stroke these smooth, supple curves.”
Sorry Barbie, the fake-bake doesn’t work for me.
And yeah, the REI climbing rock is blatantly phallic. Props to them.