The Lost Pretzel
A Spiritual Journey Through Nordstrom and the Cheese Sauce Rebellion
I hate it here. The parking. So many spaces. Should be easy, but they’re too small. Too crazy. Always feel like I’m gonna get hit.
Nice, juicy spot, way out.
That’s for me. I don’t mind walking.
Should have brought headphones.
For what? Two more minutes in my head? In a mall?
At the mall.
At the wall.
Tennis-ball-throw-it-against-the-wall.
Look at my guy. Bet he doesn’t hold the door.
Yeah. Typical.
No wonder people feel so alone.
At the mall?
Nah, just here on Earth. Everyone feels alone at the mall, and probably on Earth too.
Where’s Nordstrom? You’re always on the wrong side.
Oh look, Auntie Anne’s. Man a pretzel would be good right now.
Pop-Pop gets a treat on the way out?
These people hawking their wares in the middle of the mall like the old days, in the streets. Like Beauty and the Beast. “It’s me, Gaston, I need a wife,” but really they’re just selling screen protectors and junk.
Wow that’s a lot of kids, guys. I couldn’t handle that.
Can you imagine how much Auntie Anne’s you’d have to buy for four kids?
Probably have to get the big ones, or the extra cheese sauce or whatever.
Are they gonna let me return this thing, anyway?
It’s Nordstrom -- of course they are.
These poor parents with the kids riding around in the little car or whatever. Cracks me up. Wonder if I would have said yes to that?
Barcelona. Your kid rode in every coin-op car she saw, so get off your high horse you smug bastard.
Is it rude to ignore the guys shouting at me from the middle?
Why don’t they just work at Nordstrom? I bet people don’t ignore you there. Probably pays better, too.
That’s ridiculous. People are people. They probably ignore you everywhere, and minimum wage is through the roof right now. End of the day, “NO SOLICITORS”. That’s why they make those signs.
Tennis-ball-throw-it-against-the-wall bam-bam-bam-ba-bam-bam
Where am I? Have I even hit the food court yet? Oh, there’s a directory.
If you need that, the terrorists win. Just keep walking.
I’ll run into it. Oooh, Jamba Juice.
I thought they closed?
Maybe Nordstrom’s on the second floor? Is there a second floor?
Sure. Theater’s up there.
Wetzel’s Pretzels. Another pretzel place. I bet they’re owned by the same person. Probably Annabelle Wetzel, Pretzel Baroness of the West. Sort of a, “robbing Peter to pay Paul,” situation, except it’s pretzels.
That is not what that means.
Did the disciples ever get a pretzel?
Not a decent one, anyway.
Right. Leaven. Hey! Nordstrom! Like I sent myself a message in the future. Thanks me.
Really hope they take this back, ‘cause what are you gonna do with a big ol’ Mikasa bowl?
No idea. Who was it even from?
No card? No wrapping paper?
Not even sure it was meant for me.
I know I’ve seen Mikasa stuff at Nordstrom before. They gotta take it back. That’s like their whole deal.
Oh, hah. It is on two floors! Housewares down here though, and booyah! There’s all the glass.
Okay, slow down. Don’t wanna knock over some old lady buying a glass bowl for her nephew.
Haha, she could just have mine. I see Mikasa! This might actually work.
“Hi. I got this as a gift. No receipt or anything. Can I return it here? Sure, I can wait. Thanks.”
Weird. Nothing like this around here, but you gotta think if they sell one Mikasa, they sell ‘em all. Right?
Some of this stuff is like fifty bucks!
“Oh, okay. Yeah, thank you. No problem.”
They don’t sell it?
I mean I get it, but man, what am I supposed to do with it now? I don’t have room for it. Kinda up against a wall here.
Bam-bam-bam-ba-bam-bam tennis-ball-throw-it-against-the-wall
Throw this bowl against the wall. At least that’d be fun to watch.
“I’m sorry. You’re sure you don’t sell this? Okay. Do you want it? I’ll just give it to you. Haha. Oh, sure, I was just joking. Unless of course you want it. Haha. Okay, no worries. I’ll figure something out.”
There’s a Goodwill down the road.
Be easier if Nordstrom took it. I should just leave it on the table with the other stuff when she’s not looking. Haha.
HOLYCRAPYOUSHOULDJUSTLEAVEITONTHETABLEWHENSHESNOTLOOKING.
Don’t mind me. Just walking around looking at everything. That’s right.
Oh, interesting Mikasa bowls you have here. What other manner of glass bowl do you have? Perhaps they would suit my fancy, as I am a collector of fine glassworks.
Yes, that gentleman could use some assistance. That’s it. Right there, on the table.
Not in the middle!
Right. Too showy. Definitely stacking some other dishes on top.
Camouflaged.
Blended like the razzmatazz pink that it is.
Be funny if this is a family heirloom.
Don’t even joke. Besides, I never heard of any Mikasa heirloom.
Okay, I’m out I’M OUT!
Walk normal moron, or they’ll think you’re shoplifting.
Haha, hilarious.
Okay. Don’t look back. Yes, yes, straight to Auntie Anne’s, or Wetzel’s.
Whichever comes first.
Two pretzel shops, remember?
What’re the odds?
Two pretzels walked into a bar. One was a salted.
“Just a salted, please.”
Haha. I don’t think that’s right.
Right. Peanuts.
Still...
“Yes I will have cheese sauce, thank you.” Are you kidding me? I could lift a hundred pounds right now.
Let’s eat across from the kids in the cars. In case they feel alone?
Bam-bam-bam-ba-bam-bam.