I found myself standing in front of a large row of pens and other writing implements seriously wondering if I should buy a red pen. One part of my brain kept insisting that I don’t need a red pen, but then another part would point out that in the event that I did need a red pen, it would be better to have one ready. You know, just in case some zombies attacked and the only way to defeat them would be correcting their homework.
No, I didn’t get so far as to figure out why zombies would have homework, much less why correcting it would defeat them.
I decided that I really, really didn’t need a red pen, zombies or not, as I already had a mace. I started to walk away only to be distracted by a selection of highlighters. It was then I realized I was totally hooked on Staples.
Oh, it started innocently enough. I would go into the local Staples with an actual need, such as the sorter I bought a couple/three weeks ago. I needed that to sort stuff. The argument can be made that you can also sort stuff with a mace, but it’s not as tidy.
And then I found myself going in to look at file folders. I don’t really need any file folders, but when I bought the sorter, I passed the file folders and thought ‘maybe I should get some of those, too.’
It escalated from there.
I decided I really needed to look at some labels. And since I was there, I should probably check out the envelopes. And laser pointers. You never know when you might need to point at something.
I mean, I might be in a restaurant when zombies attack. I’ll shout ‘Look out, zombies!’ and the other patrons will say ‘Where?’ and I’ll whip out my laser pointer and put the dot right on a zombie’s forehead and say ‘There!’
And then we’ll beat up the zombies with chairs and plastic trays and I’d be a hero and the cute cashier might give me a coupon for a free burger.
No, my ambitions are not lofty.
Staples just has all these things that I can convince myself that I might need. I don’t have this problem in toy stores. Oh, I want everything, I just don’t need everything. Staples is different. They have real grown-up things that I can show to an adult and say ‘this is a thing I need’ and they would agree.
Now, if the zombies were in high-school, they could, conceivably have been zombified before they turned in their homework, so they might still have it on them. And if I gave them ‘F’s, they might be so dejected they would forget about eating what little brain I have. Then I could hit them with my mace.
Huh, guess I’m going back to Stables for that red pen.