Goodwill is that special blend of magical depression that both stimulates the imagination and crushes the soul. Please don't kick your child when he is on the floor playing with a toy; sweet, look at this ridiculous t-shirt! While on road trip recently to south Texas I bought an absurd hat that I can't possibly ever even attempt to pull off. I was assured by the helpful woman that sold me on it that it was both A) very popular hat, and B) look very good, on you (say those with some south east Asian inflection if you like.) I decided that, what I am now calling my money making and cigar smoking hat, needed a jacket. A partner in crime if you will. But where does one obtain an article of clothing on that same level of tackiness for less than the three five dollars bills that stand solemnly in my wallet? Goodwill of course.
It took me longer to find the mens jackets section than it did to identify the "one." A sword in the stone moment it was not, all the same it was clearly waiting patiently for me to rip it from its poorly sewn bonds. As I held it in my hands my eyes searched gently for imperfections. The sleeves too long, the color wrong and a weird stain several inches up on the right sleeve... Opening the jacket revealed that unlike all of the jackets that particular vestment called neighbors but never peers, a dark green fabric which laid in stark contrast to the drab gray and faded navy blue the others sported. I stared at it for a few seconds trying to make sense of what I was seeing. "It's, its the color of money."
I walked into my house eagerly to show my wife who promptly pointed out that the inside of my jacket is not green but the same tired gray I had attempted to avoid. Despite her attempt to destroy my excitement I have faith that it'll be a real pleasure to smoke my eight dollar victory cigars and consume chili dogs this season in my magic jacket and tacky hat.
