I was standing there with a box of Lucky Charms and a pack of dental floss when Joe pulls me outta line. Says: “Hey, Sam, you gotta come see this.” And he drags me down an aisle like there’s no tomorrow. And you should see him move. He’s been spry since he got his knee replaced, but this takes the chili dog. I says to him, I says: “Joe, what’s your hurry.” And he says to me, he says: “Sam, you aren’t gonna believe this.” He’s moving like a—like a—well I don’t know what but he’s moving fast. He yanks me past the breakfast cereals and past the ladies underwear. He yanks me past the camping gear and the underarm deodorant, until I’m standing in the far corner of the store, about to enter an aisle I’ve never been down before. There looks to be mannequins on either side, all dressed in lingerie, though that can’t be, seeing as we rushed through the lingerie aisle on our way over here. When I step into the aisle, the mannequins come to life, which is when I realize they aren’t mannequins at all but women dressed in next to nothing. They twitter and coo and ask how I like it. They ask if I like it rough, or with leather, or in a three-way, or tied up. I call to Joe and ask what the hell he’s got me into. He smiles back at me: “It’s a new product line,” he says. “Pay less, live better.” I’d like to think Joe’s onto something here, but I know from experience—like with that push mower I bought, and the lawn furniture too—that it’s a false economy. You buy something cheap and use it the leastwise rough and the product breaks apart like straw. Better to get yourself something sturdy that’ll last you over the long haul.
