» Cheap Tat

Rainbow = Metamphetamine abusers' playground

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My wife and I frequent a discount store called 'Grocery Outlet', often referred to by the people of my town as 'Rainbow' for no more reason than the fact that their logo is a large, tacky, 70's-style rainbow. Great cheap, foodie deals are to be had there - rounds of brie for 50 cents, 10 yogurts for $1, a quart or organic milk for 90 cents, and so on...

Partly because of such modest prices and partly because of the locale, Rainbow is often frequented by folks who are addicted to metamphetamine. In fact, when we shop there I usually play a game (much to the disapproval of a more compassionate Mrs. luvtub) that I call 'Spot the Tweaker', for there's virtually always at least one or two to be found in house.

Tweakers are renowned for exercising somewhat impulsive behavior while under the influence. Take Exhibit A, for example, in which an 8-pack of bear claws (a Stateside breakfast pastry) became a 7-pack:



Unfazed, Rainbow higher-ups simply marked down the sticky buns from $2.50 to $1.50 for the lot.

Exhibits B and C further illustrate the phenomenon, but one can hardly blame the offender - who doesn't love a raw hot dog while zipping about a discount shop, giggling in pressured, paranoid fits?



The downside, of course, is because the 8-pack has been opened, the goods have become unsalable, haven't they? Not so fast! There are still 7 perfectly good franks in there. Originally $1.50? Let's just fix that...





Please be kind. I'm shy and don't post much.
(Mon 7th Jan 2008, 1:54, More)

» Near Death Experiences

...and my ears paid the next day
I saw Death at a punk club in Portland. Got up to the second row at one point, about 5 feet away from the guitar player's amp.
(Sat 27th Nov 2004, 4:12, More)

» Shoddy Presents

The Dockers
In the mid-90's I lived in Southern California and had a penchant for wearing tacky, loud clubwear, knob that I was. My girlfriend at the time, a Mexican named Grisiela, hated my taste in clothing. She constantly begged me to dress in her words "like a more grown-up". "I want to see you in the Dockers," she would frequently say.

I, the smug fashionplate, would just laugh at her pleas.

One July morning I awoke to find a package from Mexico for my birthday. Sure enough, Grisiela had sent me "the Dockers", bright blue, a shade shy of neon. For S&G's I tried them on. They were truly the most heinous article of clothing I'd ever worn up to that time. The pants were about two sizes too small, such that the zipped fly was stretched almost to the breaking point. What's more, they were clearly retreads, as they were highlighted with numerous bleached streaks indicative of sloppy laundering.

Grisiela never saw me in "the Dockers". We split up shortly after when she was impregnated by a Dutch tourist.

I'll bet they wear "the Dockers" with pride in Holland...
(Sat 25th Sep 2004, 8:00, More)