Today is the day you've been waiting for. The most important celebratory event of the year. The day that you and hundreds of other people will stand in line at the mall in front of the big box, because you want the newest game controller. It's been two whole years! You didn't buy one last year, because you knew that after the coronation of Trump it would be cheaper, and last year you couldn't even afford eggs. But this year is different. You've given up on eggs, and you took public transit, but little Bobby needs a new controller.
So you wait. Around mid morning you realize that the line is only slowly moving. Twenty feet every hour. By lunch time you will still be half a block away. So you decide to have doordash deliver burgers, that way you will have enough energy and high blood sugar when you finally have to fight the Mexican family for the device. So you call up on your cell phone, and tell the dispatcher that the delivery immigrant on the scooter should look for the second person dressed as a giant turkey in line. You're the tall one on the left.
Biggest day of the year! The wait is over!
Oh boy oh boy oh boy oh boy!
It's tradition!
That casserole with all the tater tots you had yesterday combined badly with liquour and your medications, and consequently you are just a little bit constipated. Probably shouldn't have got diabetes in your twenties. Plus oedema.
Little Bobby was a mistake. That one time you and Clarice .....
Oh well. Accidents happen. And he looks like you.
Uncle Gordmund will remember him.
And pay for his college.
Trade school.
Good luck at the big box. I don't have diabetes or unsightly bloating, no stupid kids either, don't know anyone named Clarice, and I'll be at work today. But I'm there in spirit.
I morally support you.
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