Sunglasses at night

[tikistitch]

"Quickly! We must away to shop for Star Wars toys...."

But Mr. Tikistitch! We are tired and cranky and smell bad! We want to loll on the couch, drinking cheap red wine and reading fantasy novels.

"No excuses!"

But Mr. Tikistitch! There is no Stitch Store at Southcenter, and thus nothing on which to waste our shopping money.

"Go you will. It is your des-ti-ny!"

And so, along with Mr. Tikistitch and the Mad Frenchman and Boneboy (who was, for unexplained reasons, also hanging around the living room at Casa de Tikistitch), we squoze into the Tikimobile, and plunged south on I-5....



Our first stop was Guitar Center. "Will there be anything in this store even vaguely of interest to us?" wailed Boneboy. We amused ourselves by comparing the tiki-worthiness of various bongo sets while the Frenchman plucked on zee various Fender gee-tars americaine.

With barely a breath, we hurtled towards Toys R Us, where Boneboy attempted to point out each and every Spawn monster in his collection. We wandered to the back, in hopes of completing a longstanding errand. Our baby-clothes-generated zen was shattered by the jangle of the Tikiphone.

Mr. Tikistitch: We'realloutsideintheparkinglotwithourtoysweneedtogettoKaybee
beforeitclosesin15minuteswherethehellareyou?

TS: Niece.

MT: (Incomprehending) Hah?

TS: YOUR niece. Shopping. Gifts.

MT: (Comprehending) Ah! Berightthere.

Mr. Tikistitch was back indoors in a flash, meeting us at the checkout counter. A quick appraisal comfirmed that the little pinkie baby bibs, little teddy blankie and teeny onsie were indeed of incomparable standards of cute, and, baby shower obligations fulfilled, we zoomed to the Southcenter Mall, entering through the food court.

TS: Should we eat here?
MT: First we need to go to Kaybee!
TS: Then we'll eat?
MT: THEN we need to go to the music store?
TS: Um. And THEN we'll eat?
MT: And THEN we'll got to Suncoast!

We skulked off to the Clothing Retailer, promising to rendez-vous at the food court at some future time. We aimed for a quick errand, but instead, stood staring at the clothing display for some 10 minutes.

Clerk: Can I help you?
TS: Um, do you have any jeans in my size that are NOT tall and NOT petit and NOT stretch and NOT low-slung and NOT boot-cut and NOT pre-faded in weird stripes?
I mean, just, NORMAL jeans?
Clerk: Oh yeah, we have those! But I have to go get them in back.

We reunited with the weary party of toy-shoppers at 9:27 pm. Since the food court (and indeed, the entire mall) closed at 9:30, we discovered that most vendors were already completely denuded of any consumables. We scrambled for scraps, and had just seated ourselves when the racket began, "WHACK! WHACK! WHACK!" The industrious janitorial staff of Southcenter mall was getting a head start at putting up each and every one of 50,000 (seemingly) chairs in the food court area.

Frenchman: Zees ees 'orrible!
Janitors: WHACK! WHACK! WHACK!
TS: Huh?
Janitors: WHACK! WHACK! WHACK! WHACK!
Frenchman: You shouldn't have to eat like zees?
Janitors: WHACK! WHACK! WHACK!
TS: Wha?

But Mr. Tikistitch was urging us to hasten, as we had but 15 minutes to make Target before it closed. The Franchman grumbled that one shouldn't eat so quickly, and without benefit of alcohol, but was amused by our pronunciation of Tar-jay. As we roamed the aisles, a voice came over the loudspeaker announcing that Tar-jay was closing, and to bring one's items immediately to the front counter, an announcement which everyone in our party blithely ignored. Mr. Tikistitch bought a Target Darth Vader gift card, and then stunned the checkout clerk by insisting on using it immediately. "I just want the card," he assured her. The clerk then vetoed his purchase, as the item in question had been recalled. Mr. Tikistitch colored the air with inventive language. The Frenchman commented, "He teach me many new English words as he drive!"

On to our 24 hour Walmart, where we somehow became separated from our party in the toy section, found them in the cereal section, lost them again in the DVD section, reuinted again in the food section, lost again in the DVD section, finally placed several Tikiphone calls, and located them all at checkout, where Mr. Tikistitch was trying do convince the checkout clerk that yes, he wanted to use his Walmart Star Wars gift card immediately. "I just want the card," he told her. "Why?" she barked.

Are we going home now? NO! Boneboy knows of an ultra-super-secret Fred Meyer store, located nearby. And guess what, it closes in 15 minutes. Just out of the parking lot, a right, a quick left, under the bridge, now go to the yield sign, across the construction zone, watch out for the standing water, and here we are! We scattered towards the toy section as they turned out the lights and made the general announcement to vacate the property. Mr. Tikistitch boldly turned around and headed instead of his beloved cereal aisle, where he spent many minutes considering Crispix.

And, home now?

Yes! We attempted to squeeze the last few bags in the crowded trunk of the Tikimobile, and then Mr. Tikistitch tossed the very last bag to us in the back seat with the admonishment, "Don't crush it!!" The Frenchman said approvingly, "You buy much sheet! You weel need a new 'ouse!"