Dad, are there Go-Karts in Heaven?

Last Saturday I was privileged enough to go thrift store shopping with a very good friend of mine, who is an absolute expert thrifter. I must say, I was unaware of the hidden art of digging up thrift store's finest gems. The art relies on a delicate balance of hats and theft. Among the gems uncovered, an autographed Rocky's Auto hat, signed by the Rock Man himself. Also, a few good Hawaiians, an old school Bull's hat, a Longmont baseball jersey, and some other gems. As far as theft goes, it seems wearing as much of the merchandise out as possible is vital to the art-form. The purpose here not one of frugality, but one of a much deeper significance, one that I have yet to learn.

After two ARC thrift stores in Westminster



We headed to the Sal-Army off I-25 in Denver. This store proved to be uneventful, and it was on our way back when my friend asked me the greatest question anyone has ever asked me. When I first heard it, it was a bunch of sounds muddied into words. Then the more I considered what he said, the more I realized how amazing the question was. No one has ever asked me to marry them, but I imagine thats how you feel inside when someone does. Anyway, what was I talking about? Right...the question. He said and I quote:

"Jon, do you wanna go do go-karts or do you wanna go to the titty bar?"

Visions of:





with the occasional:



danced through my head.

Naturally, the two of us decided on the titty bar and headed back to Westminster where we had driven by one earlier. While I will spare you the intimate details of our exotic adventures, I will say that the thrift store and the titty bar are not unlike each other. They both hold a quality that, if not abused, can lend you perspective on exactly how cool suburban America can be. I would never go to the thrift store or the titty bar frequently because its effect would wear off. However, some people do, and it seems to be the same proto-type who frequent both. While we found more irony in the situation than these people, we were not unlike them. We all had Hawaiian shirts and autographed Rocky's Auto hats on. Also, we were all American. God Bless.

Now if I could only get this cheap perfume off my clothes.