To solve last week’s puzzle I trudged-by-car to the west end on Friday afternoon. In anticipation of our major east/west thruway being closed for a freeway-bridge replacement this weekend, every driver in the National Capital Area had apparently decided — in a terrible example of synchronicity at its worst — to preemptively divert to an often-busy-but-usually-passable east/west road down in my part of the City.
After several kilometres, I turned north off this impromptu parking lot with a sigh of what turned out to be preemptive and misplaced relief. Something was still amiss. This shopping strip is always busy, but on Friday it was gridlocked. Short of a natural disaster, it’s beyond me why high-school students would be dismissed en masse at 2:30 PM, but it certainly added delightful delays on the north/south portion of my trek as traffic backed-up behind and around City buses boarding apparently endless numbers of thyroid-deficient students who had apparently never boarded buses before.
At last I pulled into my target’s parking lot, and confirmed that it was just as under-privileged in appearance as I had recalled from my first trip. Exhibit A, Your Honours. Note the navy sandal on the concrete pillar, presumably placed there by the finder. Who would lose one shoe in a gritty parking lot and not notice?
Anyway, this all just shows how I suffer for my art. You’ll be glad to know that, after being once bitten, I returned home via another less-irritating route. There are no points for suffering needlessly.
Baby-stuff Emporium Staff
They did not reproach me as I took photos of their merchandise and merchandising techniques. They did not even approach me. I suspect they (singular use, trust me) did not notice me.
Notionally, retail outlets are designed to make it easy for you to buy stuff, but modern outlets are no longer staffed to meet this objective. But, as Someone in this household is wont to say, “Nothing is all good or all bad.” Certainly the appalling paucity of retail staff has this advantage: It is less likely that a store employee will even see you taking unapproved photos.
Several flagged the key problem: The object seemed too small for a human, even a baby human, as well as oddly constructed.
And the award goes to . . .
Jim R takes runner-up and will serve if our first-place finisher, Ken from Kenora, is unable to serve his complete term:
- Jim R suspected it might be a dog coat but was thrown off by the stated purpose of the store, namely, a baby-stuff emporium.
- Ken from Kenora had no such qualms and bravely put his chips on that square, sans qualification.
There’s more good news: they’re on sale.
Why did we switch gears from an award show to a beauty contest? Why not? Nothing about this makes much sense.
Why didn’t I see the sign the first time? I refer you to this background article on my powers of observation.
Why *is* a baby-stuff emporium selling dog coats? I might have asked a clerk, but, well, you know.