When I go shopping, I see so many places that try to tell me that they have the best of whatever they’re offering. World’s best cup of coffee, America’s softest mattresses, cutest little puppy in the universe, #1 Dad, city’s most active retirement community (not true at all), America’s most wanted, America’s next top model, the Best Buy, etc. All people just blowing gas. But I recently saw a store that didn’t skirt the issue:
It’s refreshing to see someone telling the truth for a change. I was pleased and went into the shop. I asked the man there if it was true, that they are probably the lowest priced in the city. He shrugged his shoulders and said, “Yea, probably.” That was enough for me. I pulled out a dollar and bought memorial day cards for all of my grandkids.
I told my friends back at Pleasant Acres all about the place, and they were all very excited to go. So they next day the bus took the whole lot of us down to the store so we could shop and have a good time. But when we got there it was gone! Clara said it must have gone out of business because of all the negros and video games and she once met Lawrence Welk, but I don’t think so. I think it was a magical shop, a vision from beyond the grave (that I’m not too far from these days). It was a place that appeared miraculously to show me how shops would work in a next life and to sell me some nice memorial day cards. It was a wondrous gift from God.
Either that, or I forgot where I was when I saw it. Darn negros.