My Retirement, Under a Seat, On a Handrail, Stuck in an Esophogus for Seven Years
It was one of those impulse buy items at the checkout in a supermarket.
Except that this was an Asian supermarket.
I saw hanging from a rack, while I was buying some coconut milk or something, a long string of something that had Thomas the Tank Engine pictures all over it. And Japanese writing.
Small little packages of something strung together with pictures of Thomas, Gordon, Percy, the whole gang.
Needless to say, it was too much to pass up for the little shaver.
$2.28 later I was the proud owner of some strange string of something that had Thomas the Tank Engine pictures all over it and Japanese writing.
Candy, I assumed. The packages looked like Sweet-Tarts.
Somewhere between the supermarket and home, I envisioned myself, twenty years hence, at a show of Thomas memorabilia. I envisioned people proudly displaying their model trains, lunch-boxes, and various obnoxious battery-powered sing-along shit. I'd just smile. I'd casually whip out my string of candy with Japanese writing and let the bidding begin.
It all went awry when the little tyke saw the Thomas pictures as I was unpacking the groceries. I tried to stay firm, but he wore me down and I relented. I watched my fortune disappear as he tore open all six packages and devoured every single stick of gum wrapped up inside.
Except that this was an Asian supermarket.
I saw hanging from a rack, while I was buying some coconut milk or something, a long string of something that had Thomas the Tank Engine pictures all over it. And Japanese writing.
Small little packages of something strung together with pictures of Thomas, Gordon, Percy, the whole gang.
Needless to say, it was too much to pass up for the little shaver.
$2.28 later I was the proud owner of some strange string of something that had Thomas the Tank Engine pictures all over it and Japanese writing.
Candy, I assumed. The packages looked like Sweet-Tarts.
Somewhere between the supermarket and home, I envisioned myself, twenty years hence, at a show of Thomas memorabilia. I envisioned people proudly displaying their model trains, lunch-boxes, and various obnoxious battery-powered sing-along shit. I'd just smile. I'd casually whip out my string of candy with Japanese writing and let the bidding begin.
It all went awry when the little tyke saw the Thomas pictures as I was unpacking the groceries. I tried to stay firm, but he wore me down and I relented. I watched my fortune disappear as he tore open all six packages and devoured every single stick of gum wrapped up inside.
2 Comments:
At February 21, 2006 7:26 AM,
Lucy said…
Now you will have to go back to the Asian grocery and buy out ALL the Thomas the Tank Engine string thingies with the Japanese writing. Give All of them to your kid except one. Your child will destroy all of them except the one you kept thus raising the future value even higher!
Think of the adoring ohhs and ahhhs when you whip that string out at the future Thomas the Tank Engine-Con.
At February 21, 2006 11:51 PM,
Frank said…
Brilliant.
It reminds me of a book I saw once. I never bothered to read it, but it had a great title: How To Invest Like Warren Buffett But Live Like Jimmy Buffett.
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