Discounted Epiphanies

 
I have a love/hate relationship with All A Dollar. I really do. On the one hand, I love the place because of all the truly great cheap stuff I’ve found there. Like my bulk purchase of 32 Smiley face fly swatters (c’mon it was for Young Women) or Christmas napkins for our Progressive Dinner, or my latest treasure of 8 episodes of the Andy Griffith Show (and that includes the episode where Ernest T. Bass kidnaps Barney dressed in drag) and on DVD no less. Thank you All A Dollar, I love you.

But then I hate All A Dollar, too. I hate that place because at least once a year I have a major life changing epiphany there. All A Dollar pricks my social conscience in a way that few other places do, other than the temple or church. Seriously. And having to face yourself or discover kernals of truth about yourself isn’t always pleasant. Or fun. Or easy.

I’m speaking of encounters like the one a couple of Christmas’s back when this grumpy old man was being pushed in a wheelchair by his 30 something daughter. They were picking out Christmas gifts for the man to give his grandchildren. Only the man wasn’t soft spoken but really rather rude as he kept making comments to the little kids running around bumping into his wheelchair. He had bed head and his shirt was covered in old man dribble. Anyway, his daughter was pushing him around and patiently making suggestions as to what he could buy.

The old man would snort, No, I don’t want none of that crap or grunt, No, I gave that to them before.

The whole time Kenzie and I are nonchalantly following them around in the store hoping they won’t notice our interest in them.

Finally the woman perks up and says, I know, Dad, what about a can of pop! The kids would love that, what do you think?

And finally the old man agrees. So now the woman is happy and the old man is happy and the grandkids will be getting a can of pop from Grandpa. For Christmas. So many thoughts on so many levels, I won’t even go there but it was a sweet and tender experience for me and I couldn’t stop thinking and crying about it for days.

Also, at All A Dollar for the past 3 years running I see the little old spanish beggar man only he isn’t dressed like a beggar and hops out of his nice shiny car to ask me if I ‘have any money to buy food and medicine’. He always leaves me wondering and confused. What is his story? Hurry into the store, don’t make eye contact. More thoughts, more soul searching.

And then there’s the little lady in the check out line back in March. It was raining like crazy that day and I ran into All A Dollar to pick up a cheap umbrella as I was driving Kenz to BYU for her voice lesson and she had given her umbrella to her roommate and we were running late as usual…

Anyway, this little lady with the hearing aid turns to me and smiles sweetly. She proceeds to chat me up and delivers this powerful little sermon:

I love the rain don’t you? Some people don’t you know, but I do. My mother used to say to me, ‘Embrace the rain, honey. Let it kiss your face. If you’ll do that, you’ll never ever get wrinkles.’ And so I do. I embrace the rain.

I looked into this sweet little lady’s face and I kid you not she appeared normal. Yet she’s telling me this at All A Dollar. Embrace the rain, honey.

All A Dollar I hate you. You make me confront myself and my attitudes. You make me, no, force me, to interact with the lonely, the odd, the old. Even the check out girl, with the weirdly painted on eyebrows, I can’t ignore. Sometimes I try, but I can’t. Worthy of my respect and notice, all of them. I mean they are my kind of people. And let’s face it I’ve never had such encounters in Mervyns or even Target. No, there is something special about All A Dollar.

So yesterday I ran into All A Dollar quick to pick up more gingerbread house candy. The lines are long. It’s Christmas and I’m mad at the people ahead of me because don’t they know, I am busy busy and the stuff I gotta do is important and they are so slow. So I’m clutching my snowman suckers and my cotton candy and it happened. Another All A Dollar epiphany. My ‘haven’t slept for 3 nights running’ state of mind starts racing. What if. What if some crazy person in line had a gun? And what if they took us all hostage right here in All A Dollar? Which one of us would emerge the hero? Which one would fight off the crazy man, maybe tackle him or use psychology on him, or offer to remain a hostage if he’d let the others go. Here’s the really sad part, I know it wouldn’t be me. I wouldn’t be the hero. That’s because I’m a wimp and have no nunchuck skills. Someone else out of the throng of All A Dollar shoppers would step up and save the day. Suddenly I know this. And I’m overflowing with love vibes for my fellow heroic shoppers when the lady behind me with the mullet nudges me with her cart and interrupts my reverie. Move along. But again, I am changed.

So no matter anymore our relationship. I’ve come to terms with it. Whatever else All A Dollar is, it’s a place where I feel comfortable. Where else can you pop in wearing your little ducky pajama bottoms and not feel out of place. Plus, the bargains. On any given day you can get a stale bag of Cheetos or a Sermon, and all for only a dollar. Discounted epiphanies.