the smell of desperation
There are a handful of times where I think you can actually smell desperation. Not just see it in someone’s eyes, but really savor the skunky-sweet odor of desperation.
Those times are:
- 4:30 pm on Halloween in the candy aisle at Wal-Mart. And all that is left is ripped open bag of generic root beer barrels.
- 5:30 pm on Christmas Eve at the Wal-Mart toy aisle.(interesting how much desperation there is at Wal-Mart) Your chance of a Elmo TMX or PS3 is null. You are just praying to God above that you will find anything that remotely resembles a toy to give your bratty nephew.
- 5:55 pm at the grocery store on Thanksgiving Eve.
Suffice it to say, the smell at Publix late tomorrow afternoon will not be pecan pies and golden-roasted turkey, but rather the rank-musty smell of desperate housewives in fist-fights and land wars ("these crazy people are driving their buggies like it is the last lap at Talladega…") over the last box of StoveTop Stuffing.
How do I know this…because I have been (and probably will be) part of the desperate hoard trying to talk myself into thinking that leftover Halloween candy corn is an acceptable Thanksgiving vegetable.
Happy stinkin holidays….