Saturday, October 20, 2007

Sorry, but its Hard to See With This Plank In My Eye

How deeply lines rivet the faces of those whose role in life is that of keeping other people from sinning. How precious and valuable used, unwanted, chipped, sweat-stained, and skin follicle speckled junk is. What great responsibility to protect it, to ensure it is securely and diligently locked up so that only the keeper of the key can unlock the bounty of those one dollar and fifty cent broaches and belly rings. How critical to maintain the integrety of these objects so that good may be done. This good which will be bestowed upon the great and blessed field far, far away. Visited by few, the field is vaguely known by the glossy pictures carefully fastened to white walls- gleaming pictures of cleansed field dwellers whose lives have been eternally changed from dusty monotony to ceaseless gratitude.

How tremendously rewarding and exciting it must be to deliver this good news to that land far far away. Surely it would not be as complex as being the keeper of the keys here in the Land of the Plank. It takes a great deal of commitment to confiscate backpacks and large handbags at the door, lest untrustworthy locals should be found allowing merchandise to fall into their greedy folds. Its no small task to sleuth about the place, scowling down at children and sticky-fingered mothers who are surely in this place to take and take and take, never once thinking of the good that could be done to those in the field far, far away. Or what of the responsibility to ensure that no one should fondle an item yet unpriced!! Or slip an item with a pink tag into their satchel on bag sale day when the signs clearly read blue tags; priced $5.00 and under! (no fabric, no tea towels, no pretty things, no vintage things, no laughing, no smiling, and certainly, no dancing, drinking, or loitering). No, nor shall we support the hedonistic pleasures of campers, seeking to purchase a cooling receptable whose exterior clearly depicts bottles of Coors, or Labatts, or Kokanee. Woe to the fingers of the fallen pricer who brought such an abominable thing of shame onto the floor.

These are the thankless, unrecognized duties of those who were left behind. Their pictures will never smile from a brochure that promises tax deductable receipts to support the efforts of those lucky messengers of good in that land far away. In that place, surely the good is always well received and its recipients never fall into traps of greed and carelessness like the lowly, base thrift shoppers from the land of plenty. Surely their men marry women without question. Surely their mothers teach children to be seen and not heard. Surely all its people have learned the value of not asking questions; not challenging the status quo.

But someone must stay behind to ensure that the cracked and faded donated things don't get all dirtied up by some local before the proceeds can be used for some good. Somebody must ensure that some local doesn't carry off the merchandise improperly priced, or taken from behind a staff only sign, or that backpacks and large handbags don't get stuffed with eight tracks and cd games from the cheerio boxes seven years ago. Somebody has got to stay behind to make sure there are no toys in the area that the kids are allowed to play in. They might carelessly damage one, and what good would that do?

Its a diry job, but someone's got to make sure that nobody is doing anything wrong. No good could come of it.

8 comments:

lettuce said...

so much energy wasted for so little reason.

its hard to know whether to be angry or sad with/for these people.

it's a gong show... said...

oh and please don't forget the parenting advice one gets and believe it or not, it's FREE. i believe my mom was told to give my son a spanking because he accidentally held a matchbox car in his hand when grandma wheeled him out of the store. when mom came back to return it, the lady at the counter offered her some kind words something like, "if that were my son, i'd be giving him a spanking". whatever lady! did i mention my son is only 1. i highly doubt he is a klepto. but it's all for a greater cause right?!

Anonymous said...

We have onestore that is slightly like this-the other three are lovely, lovely places, where the staff is glad to see something go and often, if it is the day before the books are on sale will give the sale price and if they know you well will set aside something they know you will love. I love our little thrift shop with it's free cookies for kids and "Oh, you can have it for 35cents" when a tag has gone missing.

Bonnie said...

Yeah, thrift stores, what can I say, they are interesting to say the least....Maybe some of those ladies should learn to relax on occasion, it may be good for their blood presure.

Roo said...

i think you should seriously consider running in the next election. your sense of justice is just what "the people" need and want.

gloria said...

ho Ruth! don't confuse those of us that find these things offensive as being the majority by any means. we are merely the undisciplined, the untrustworthy, leading our lambs to the slaughter. we are what's wrong with society. compassion, understanding, and loving thy fellow man? that's for whimps who have not been taught that sparing the rod spoils the child! at the end of the day, the perfect "disciple" is the one that has patrolled briskly, watched every movement with an eagle eye, saved sinners from their own devices by not giving them the opportunity to offend, and managed to do all of this without smudging their white as snow complexion with a smile.

gloria said...

p.s. I do not blame them for trying to confiscate my re-joyce bag at the door, what a hippie I must have looked like. very untrustworthy, although I myself have put in many hours pricing those treasures in the back. nope, not to be trusted.

Nancy said...

Welcome to the middle of nowhere Saskatchewan where the local thrift store sells everything for a mere 25 cents. Yup, that's right. For a mere 25 cents you can touch, smell (if you dare), and take home anything and everything you want...from clothes, to skates, to dishes. AND there's free cake and coffee for mothers and sticky fingered childrend alike! Ah yes, there are benefits to living in this quirkly little village.