The Voyage Home

Floor mats.  Ed Hardy.  Koi.  No problem. 

Leaving my sister-in-laws house, I get on Route 1 South.  Pep Boys is on the corner of whatever street that is that I turn on when I go to Costco.  Somehow I miss it.  No problem.  Auto Zone is a free-standing building in front of Wick Plaza, home of the country's largest American flag.  I thought it was there.  I don't see it.  Maybe it was further down.  I am at Sears.  I toy with the idea of stopping, but I NEED to know how I missed both Pep Boys and Auto Zone.  Besides, I don't ever recall seeing designer floor mats, or any mats at all at Sears Automotive.  I make the U-turn.  I head back north.

There are people reading this who know me well, so I want to say something for the record.  I was not talking on the phone.  I was not singing to the radio.  I was not thinking about something else.  Just for this one afternoon, my entire mind was with me and was  wholly focused on finding these stores.  Now let's continue.

I again approach Wick Plaza.  There's Auto Zone, exactly where I saw it this morning, and where it is every morning on my way to work.  But for the first time I notice something odd about the building.  It is not squarely facing the highway.  It is situated on an angle.  Half the building, visible from the northbound lane, is occupied by Auto Zone.  The other half of the building, visible from the southbound lane, is occupied by Childrenswear Outlet.  From the homewardbound side, which I do not pass that often, you can NOT see the Auto Zone sign. 

I need to make a U-turn.  But I am pretty close to the turn for Costco.  I realize for the first time that the Pep Boys building is set way back from the highway.  What I really see time after time is the sign visible from the north side of the highway.  I get onto the jughandle, proceed to the Pep Boys store, which I have never before entered, and find, (Thank you, God!) the Ed Hardy Koi floormats. 

And then, feeling relieved and exhonorated, I went home.

I made one more brief, eventless trip to Menlo Park the next day.  It was finished.  Christmas happened and everything that needed to be under the tree was there. 

At this point, I should probably write about how Christmas is not about the presents.  And it's not.  I could tell how this Christmas was particularly eventful and in these events, more meaningful.  But I won't.  Instead I will reiterate the lesson I will remember for the rest of my life.  I will never, ever, again miss Black Friday.