Noodles: Armageddon.

Last weekend I bought a stuffed dinosaur.  

Yes.

I think I heard the laughter of the shopping gods as I sneakily paid with cash in the self check line.  

I’m (undisclosed age) years old.  

I do not need a stuffed dinosaur (he’s a T-Rex, his name is Armageddon, and he has made a habitat on my car dash).  

I have never needed a stuffed dinosaur.  

Nobody needs a stuffed dinosaur.  

But with a strange frenzy, I found the temptation irresistible.  I think my actions were a combination of childhood trauma, unfulfilled longings, and whatever chemical it is that they pump out through the heating system in all major department stores (cue conspiracy-theory music). I have to pause here and mention that this particular department store, which will never be directly named because I still have a tiny rag of pride clinging to my bloated soul, has a name that sounds like “Small Fart”.  Also if you said “Waffle Art”, you would have almost all the letters, but not quite.  I didn’t realize that “Waffle Art” was missing an “M” for over twenty-four hours, and by then I was too in love with the entire idea that I couldn’t simply throw it in the gutter.  Imagine a museum filled with petrified waffles!  Ah, happy dream!  But back to reality.  Armageddon was not my first impulse buy.  Far from it.  In fact, I am a compulsive buyer of three things:  Ice cream, ice cream, and things that I don’t actually buy but spend ten years looking at, trying to decide which one I like the best, until I’m so exhausted that I can’t focus my eyes and have to be escorted from the store, screaming, “I HATE THEM ALL!  THEY ARE ALL UGLY!  WHY DOES SMALLFART SELL THIS KIND OF DOG DOO!”  Sometimes it’s simply healthier to buy the thing without even thinking about it, which is how I ended up with a box of the crappiest pencils known to man, because I refused to spend more then twenty minutes of my life in the craft aisle.  (In case you’re wondering, they were the cheapest ones that came in fun colors.  And when you sharpen them, the lead doesn’t break - bonus! - but the wood kind of...disappears.  So it’s like you’re writing with this skinny little stick of lead that’s three inches long.  It is just not aesthetically pleasing.) 

On the other hand, occasionally I impulsively buy over a long period of time.  Once I saw a hat that I liked.  I should have gotten it right away and had it over with.  But I didn’t.  Instead, I came back to the store weeks later, after thinking rabidly about the hat through every waking moment, trying to decide if I should get it or not.  Eventually I got it.  I did.  And in doing so, I learned an important lesson.  If it takes more than five minutes of thought, then I probably DON’T ACTUALLY WANT THE ITEM.  Because I never wear that hat.  It’s not what I really wanted, now that I can think about it rationally, three years later.  So my new rule in life is:  If you can decide to buy it, you probably need it.  Or at least, really really really really want it to the point where your quality of life will actually increase if it gets in a bag and comes home with you.  Hence, Armageddon.  Life is short, people.