If you’re reading this, you are my last hope. I have been trapped within the labyrinthine walls of a giant TJ Maxx for four days. With only various fucked up popcorns and jelly beans as sustenance, I grow wearier with each passing hour. I fear for my life. I may never escape this place. At least if I ever reach the counter and then exit, the savings will be astronomical.
What began as a routine jaunt to my favorite location for discounted fashion and weird mugs became a nightmare as I was unable to make heads from the tails of the place. A floorplan to rival a Cretian labyrinth and so many sweaters it would drive you to madness. 100,000 different types of soap that all smell the same. Rows of bras that don’t quite fit right because someone tried them on and put them back on the wrong hanger so the size is mislabeled, and you’re like, did my boobs shrink or get bigger, what’s going on? More pairs of pants for a modest $16.99 than you’ve ever seen in your life.
If I ever get out of here I’ll finally tell Jeremy how I feel. I see his face in the men’s flannel slippers; I see it everywhere. The discounted cookware makes me think of him. The gigantic mason jars for only $2.99 reflect back his face in the glass. The fluorescent overhead lighting sputters and flickers to the beat of my heart, frantic and desperate. What began as a paradise is now a purgatory. How fucking big is this place?
I think I hear the faint beep of the checkout line. Cashier number 4, please! The automated robot voice taunts me. I would give anything to see the face of another human being; I’m beginning to forget what my own voice sounds like. I should probably buy shoes while I’m here. Just because they’re so cheap.
I guess I should also probably do my holiday shopping. I don’t know if I’ll want to come back after I finally get out. That’s not true. I will definitely come back. The hum of the heat turning on blasting the aisles with its warm breath rouses me back to life. I have to get out of here! If I can just find the trail of artisanal popcorn and candy canes that will lead me to the Snoopy mugs and scented candles that will then lead me to the giant reusable bags by the door, I’ll be home free.
Oh, the life of a Maxxinista. I may be here the rest of my life. At least I can make myself at home amongst the scattered bones of other lost shoppers, buried beneath clearance racks and returns. At least I can curl up and die inside one of these massively discounted suitcases. These are actually really nice, I should probably get one of these. This is a really nice brand and I’m not gonna find one cheaper than this!