So I’ve been a mite enamored with that Macklemore Thrift Shop song ever since I heard it about a month or two ago (thanks to dear reader, Shannon!). Even though I don’t call my regular treasure hunting trips to the Goodwill “popping tags” or “lookin’ for a come up,” I definitely agree with Macklemore’s sentiment that thrift store shopping is “fucking awesome.”
Part of the intro reminds me of a track from Herbie Hancock’s Headhunters, which in turn reminds me of how in college I dropped a financial accounting course to take a graduate seminar on Herbie Hancock, which to this day I consider the best decision I’ve ever made. Ergo, the song elicits smiles and bad dancing every time I press play.
Although the crux of my thrift store obsession is “thrift” and the idea of finding treasures on the cheap, I estimate that by the time I die I will have spent a small fortune in $20 increments at thrift stores everywhere, thus negating the entire purpose of my individual missions. But we’re going to gloss over the big picture and focus on the positive because in these times of crippled knees and torrential downpours, we’re needing to wallow in the small victories. My personal favorite aspect of thrift store treasure hunting is the feeling I get when I go into a giant store knowing that I could buy ANYTHING I WANT TO there. Sure, not everything but anything(!). Fucking awesome.
And speaking of fucking awesome, I found the following donated library book at the Goodwill on Sunday:
I didn’t purchase the book because my shopping partner told me he “doesn’t like the way those bears are drawn,” which is perhaps because they weren’t drawn at all and were instead photographed as this story is NON-FICTION. Duh.
It is a little weird in that they appear to be teddybears in teddybear costumes, which seems rather pointless and warm, but who am I to judge the true-life accounts of others? I’m sure if I wrote a non-fiction story called “Flossie Glossop Goes Shopping” all about how I went to Fresh Market yesterday in a bright orange raincoat & wellies and marveled at the giant pomelos, which made my hands smell like grapefruit for hours and tsk-tsked at the price of strawberries and forgot to buy toothpaste, people would be likewise unimpressed.
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