What were you up to at 6am this morning, love-a-doves? I’ll venture some deductive reasoning (whoa, nelly!) and fan out some sound options for us, here:
Perhaps you were safe and snuggled in your bed-and-nest-place with a tummy still making little gurgle noises. This is a good place to be. Beds are soft and warm and – if you’re very fortunate indeed – full of Other Person/People that make bed-place oh-so-extra soft and warm. You should be happy if this was you at 6am. You do life right.
OR
Perhaps this: Your shoes are weightless. You are a sprite. You are a gazelle. A wind of purpose. Anything with the knees that bend and the soul that shoots into the air above the sidewalk, the asphalt, the blackened spots of gum. Your majestic breath steaming like a war horse in the ice night of the November dark. You NEED that effing Nespresso machine, fool.
Simplified: You went shopping. Fine.
I was doing neither – in case you want to know because I’m so special. I was dancing in my loft to Flo Rida. This is a true account. I’m just cool.
No matter how you broke the dawn this the monikered slash of day known in the First World as “Black Friday”, the Holiday shopping season is officially fresh out in the field and ready for whatever monetary arrows you have to pierce its quivering deer hide of festive flesh. That was an overwrought hunting metaphor for shopping.
So what’s a big spender like you gonna do with a pocket fulla clang and a whole lotta love to give? You already know the drill, my friend – cool kids shop at Carmichael’s! Grab your shades (because that’s important for maximum effect. Sunglasses are a product I endorse) and step out with both your street cred and your credit cards; the Holiday Catalogue from Carmichael’s Bookstore has got your covered for the literary lovers on your list. You should also be listening to Flo Rida. I will endorse this, too.
