When you live in a walking city like NYC, sometimes getting new shoes is like getting a new car. It directly affects your daily routine. It had been a little too long since I'd gotten a new pair of sneakers, and since my bro-in-law had gone back to work for Nike this past year, I decided to get my 40% "family" discount at the local Nike Town. Behold, the Lunar Glide+ 5. (I'd been walking around in Lunar Glide+ 1s like some kind of fucking asshole.)
These new sneakers *literally* put a bounce in my step. It's like walking on the goddamn moon.
(The brother-in-law is a bit of a sneaker pimp, by the by, and also recommended the Flyknit Lunar1+. And his current favorite: the Zoom Terra Kiger.)
It was a brisk, snowy day on Saturday. SantaCon revelers infested the streets. I could have stayed in and kept warmth, responsibly tending to this lingering illness — a sporadic, insistent cough that had settled in and become something of a pet — but for some reason the idea of NEW SNEAKERS got trapped in my head and I was convinced it would make my entire life better. So, I made the street trek into whiteness that is 5th Ave and 57th Street and picked up my new sense of well-being.
On the walk back, a peculiar sight...
Tourists, obviously, packed the sidewalks. But I started seeing a few young girls carrying... dead babies. That's what my brain registered amidst the chaos of snow. Girl after girl carrying lifeless babies under EACH arm.
No, these were not dead babies. These were American Girl dolls.
I knew the American Girl HQ was around there somewhere but it didn't hit me until I'd seen a few little girls carrying their next gen Cabbage Patch kids. TWO-FISTING fucking American Girl dolls!
You know the thing about an American Girl doll, she's got... lifeless eyes, black eyes, like a shark's eyes. When she comes at ya, doesn't seem to be livin'. Until she bites ya and those black eyes roll over white. And then, ah... then you hear that terrible high pitch screamin' and her dress turns red and spite of all the poundin' and the hollerin' they all come in and rip you to pieces.
All these little girls are going to outgrow those things eventually. And they'll be left with a small army of American Girl dolls in their homes... just waiting for Phase 2.