who spend their days free of thought.
I pass a store called Katch 22 in the Exchange daily on my way to and from work. Today I noticed a big sale sign in the window (30 - 60 percent off) so I dropped in to check out a bag I'd been eyeing for a while. It's a colorful travel bag that would be perfect to say pack empty and return full of new pretty NYC purchases. I couldn't see the price tag on it so I asked the saleslady, a twenty-one-ish, doe-eyed thing, if it was on sale. She responded that it was always on sale. "Oh?" I replied. "How much is it on sale, then?" To which she said, "Oh it's not on sale." Confused, I say, "But you just said it's always been on sale. It's not on sale then?" "No," she replied. "I thought you meant was it for sale." Yes, bc I would be asking if an item prominently displayed in the window of your store was actually available for purchase in your store......why do I have to share my planet with these people?
The Exchange had a particulary odd (more odd than the usual odd) smell this morning. Like dead bodies thawing in the spring. Lovely, really.
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Mmmm....dead body smell. How I miss it. I used to imagine finding a hand poking out between blades of grass in the tranquil exchange district park.
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