Sunday Tennisfiend and I spent a few hours in El Paso’s leading athletic store to ogle its sprawling wall of tennis rackets. Swarms of jubilant screaming children and their unconcerned parents greeted us as we entered the store.
We discovered that the World’s Most Unbelievable 50% Off Sale was taking place for One Day Only and apparently the savings was only obtainable if you brought an uncontrollably squealing child. After ten minutes of browsing we realized that the only way to survive the onslaught of boisterous children was to discard our adult shells and think like a child.
Once you embrace the peculiar drunkenness of an eight year old’s brain, the riotous noise and commotion are no longer a nuisance but an impetus to grab a tennis racket and swing crazily. Thus, two hours passed most pleasantly. Flushed with the joy of handling an abundance of tennis rackets and the purchase of two stylish but overpriced tennis shirts, we fled El Paso.
On the long drive home, Tennis Fiend expressed his amazement at the profusion of goods in America and told me the story of his first pair of tennis shoes. To do his long story justice, I’ll post it separately, perhaps tomorrow.