Once again I find myself at an amazingly romantic location, sans someone to share it with. I’ve mentioned a time or two that I don’t consider it a goal necessarily to become comfortable being by myself, and to that end nothing has changed. Still it’s during times like this that I get in touch with my inner caveman.
The inner caveman lurks in all of us. I can’t say how he might take over your life but he’s an ever present part of you just the same.
My caveman, whom I refer to as Grog, is mostly a loner. It’s not that Grog doesn’t like people it’s just that the solitude of the cave brings more satisfaction than being with just about anyone else. In recent months I’ve had some very nice people want to spend time with me, out and about doing stuff, and just when I believe I’ll say ‘yes’ to the experiences they invite me too, Grog wakes up from his restless slumber to remind me I have more walls that require primitive artwork on them. I bash about the home typically in my underware with my cave-pet, Fang, always trailing near by. Fang is an on looker, a witness even, to the events in the cave. You’ve heard the saying, ‘If these walls could talk…,” well if this dog could talk I’d surely be the comic relief of this 360 Universe.
Grog joined me on my trip to the local outlet stores. First stop, the KB-Toys Outlet to look for a cheap skimboard to replace the one I’d worn out last February. Grog, like all spoiled kids, didn’t want to be in this store so I headed next to the local 195% off discount book store. I spent an unusual amount of time flipping through a $3.99 coffee table book on Hollywood moms and their daughters. What’s up with that? The book had just pictures, Grog loved that, other than names, the sparse writing was summarily ignored. I didn’t know Martha Stewart had a mother!
Now I’m getting bored, so our next stop was the Black & Decker store. I walked the aisles picking up things and imagining how they’d make life easier if I took advantage of the amazing discounted prices. I’m reminded of a lesson my step father taught me, sales are not really sales, they are just marketing devices to get you to part with your money. I didn’t really need these things, I’d survived without them until now. Dropping them, I left the store, Grog on tow, digging his heels in like a child that is being contrarian.
Next, brief stops at a Zumiez, Famous Brand Shoes and Totes, all in route to the cooking outlet store. Never take your inner caveman into a store with As Seen On TV cookware, it’s not a pretty site. Grog became unnaturally enamored with a Presto Pressure cooker, carrying it about as if the last one ever made. He tried to convince me that we could cook ‘fresh kill’ quicker, giving us more time for wall art. Damn him! I nearly bought the argument….nearly. The pressure cooker was forgotten as more primal forces kicked in passing by the TV knives. Did you know a handsomely designed cedar knife block comes with the deluxe set of Ginsu’s? When did that happen?
Through slight of hand tricks I’ll never admit to knowing, I exited the store with only spending $6.99 for a set of slippy discs for moving furniture. Grog was silent the whole way back to the resort.
I came back from my nightly run to the hot tub to discover images of cave art knives on the walls… I gotta get a woman.
Thanks for reading this far.