Monday, April 2
On Sunday, I find an apparently functional Canon SLR at Savers. At $3.99, it is cheaper than both the replacement battery and the box of 35mm film I immediately purchase at the King Soopers a few doors down.
Thrift stores are structured a little like games of chance: For the most part, addicts are going to lose, but the periodic and unpredictable endorphin rush of a good run will eclipse the costs enough to keep them coming back.
Anyway, where a casino consumes money and offers mainly the jangling, disorientation-carpeted hell of the modern gambling experience, thrift stores mostly just consume time I'd be wasting anyway and turn it into a mildew-scented shuffle through the gradually composting afterlife of American material culture. This turns out to be healthy for perspective, to a point. And hey, one time I found this brown button-down shirt with with white dots on it that I really like.