I don’t know about your weekend, but mine started on Friday. It started well, too, because I went to the mall twice in one day. Lately I have become an unstoppable shopping force; I just can’t seem to get through a week without breathing Mall Air. I don’t even remember why I went to the mall the first time, I just sort of came to in the America Eagle dressing room. I realized I was late for work, where I spent six hours in the office thinking about how smart I was for not dropping my hard-earned cash (ha!) on the not-for-sale shirt I’d been trying on that morning, then immediately went back to the mall and bought it. Point, consumerism.
The Shirt made its debut Saturday. The Shirt went to visit friends and family (Shirt likes people), went for a long walk in a slightly-unfamiliar city (Shirt actually let Pants do most of the work here), took in The Dark Knight and Step Brothers, and had maybe one too many Newcastles and said a few inappropriate things for the amusement of others (…Shirt has no comment). A good day, followed by another, in which I a) wore a different shirt, b) went to church (an experience I like to call Most Awkward Places to Be Hungover Part 2: This is Way Worse than My Parents’ House), and c) had family time at a Twins game. This last bit was actually the purpose of the entire weekend, and it only came to be because I really wanted to use (wear?) the Giant Foam Finger I bought on a high school NHS trip. That wasn’t even an impulse by, like the Shirt. It was an agenda item. I knew before I got on the bus that day I would be coming home with a hilariously oversized finger, and boy did I. The novelty just never wears off, especially if you only use (wear?) it once every five years.