Stanley D. Currier Archive: Seriously, Opera?

I'm beginning to think that my fellow Gwinnutians lack the stomach for looting. A while back, I heard a rumor that there was going to be a flash mob at the Mall of Georgia and so I packed a couple of bricks in my book bag and headed up to Buford planning on getting a free pair of Nike Air Jordans out of the deal.  I get up there and notice lots of people with conspiratorial expressions milling about the food court, so I plant myself right in front of the entrance to Foot Locker and wait for the signal.

All of the sudden, someone blows a pitch pipe and, get this, people start singing opera. Yeah, everyone's coming out of the wood works bellowing out friggin' Wagner. (Quite frankly, IMHO, Puccini might provide a better background for a riot, but ... whatever.) So I wait, figuring that this was just a prelude to the "get free stuff" part of the flash mob. And I wait. And I wait. About half way through the Ring Cycle I start thinking "You know, I like 19th century German arias about as much as the next guy, but my bladder is singing like a valkyrie and it's saying 'Götterdämmerung! I'd sure wish they’d hurry up and bring out the fat lady!'"

And I'm just about to shout: "Hey Brynhildr, could you pick up the tempo a little, and I mean like, say, on the scale of Brubeck?" And I'm hopping around on one leg, but I can't take my eyes off of the Air Jordans 'cause I know that there's some other yeehaw just waiting to snatch them from under my nose.

Then I see my proctologist walk in and grab a pair and I'm like "O.K., he always seems to know what he's doing, so the games have finally begun!" I follow him, grab a pair and head to the door. Then - get this! - what does he do? He goes up to the cashier and whips out his friggin' AmEx card!!! Why would anyone need an AmEx card when looting a FootLocker???

I'm confused and I don't know what to do, so in the heat of the moment I end up charging the shoes on my card and now I'm out $130 (plus tax) for a pair of shoes that I now realize make me look kind of silly (sort of like my iguana-toed cowboy boots with silver studs and red horses embroidered on the throat - $680 - not quite as cool as I thought they would be).

So the next day I try to return the things and the lady at the counter tells me "I'm sorry sir, but this model was discontinued last night" and she wouldn't take them back. Well, I figure I'll just sell them on eBay and maybe make up 80 bucks or so, but it turns out that nobody wants to buy a week old model of Air Jordans. So I get this great idea and I claim that they used to belong to LeBron James and jack up the price to $460, but some joker comments that LeBron wears 14EEEs, not 10Bs, and so I don't get any hits.

It looks like the most I can hope for now is about a $30 tax deduction when I throw the things into the Goodwill box. (At least I got 13 cents worth of points on my AmEx card.) So I'm out $90 (minus the 13 cents) all because these Buttonoid jackalopes don't know how to loot and spend all of their time singing friggin' opera instead. What is the world coming to?