i’m a believer
I’m not the most spiritual person. Okay I’m not spiritual at all. But the end of last week proved to me, once and for all, that karma is a as real as Glenn Beck is a sack of douches.
This is what happened:
Our original intention was to hit up the Crocodile Lounge because with every beer purchased one receives a ticket for a free personal pizza. After skipping it because it was too crowded and ending up at a bar just a few feet away that happened to be hosting a free comedy show, leaving there and trying AGAIN to go back to the free pizza bar only to find that it was now even more packed despite our reasoning that, “Well, it seems like more of a pre-party place. So everyone probably left by now to go drink somewhere else,” we EVENTUALLY ended up at a pizza place across the street called Artichoke (http://www.artichokepizza.com/)
The place was highly recommended and filled to the brim with people waiting for a piece, and after shoveling that steamy, cheesy slice of heaven into our mouths we knew what the fuss was all about, but I’m getting ahead of myself.
While we waited in line (the line that meandered out the door and trailed down the sidewalk) a random girl came up to me and asked, “Do you have an extra cigarette?”
Well, yeah I guess I did. I opened the pack to reveal two lone soldiers and handed her one.
Grateful, she walked away, and some guy standing behind me blurts out, “That was nice of you. It’s the socially right thing to do, I guess, right?”
I nodded in agreement and added, “Yeah, I would want someone to do that for me. That and this will probably come back to me. Good karma and all that.”
Fast forward a few days. For some reason ended up in Urban Outfitters for “five minutes” and I ended up finding TWO AWESOME THINGS that proved the existence of a higher being that is looking out for me.
- The last M gray leather/fake leather whatever jacket amongst a sea of XS for 70% off the original price.
and
- These SWEET white leather ankle boots. Without a price tag on them. Last ones, all alone on the shelf, and they were my size.
I grabbed those, met the glare of an on-looking girl who I presume saw them too but she was further away so I got them first, and made my way to the register. The other shoes around these gems had price stickers on them ranging from $40 - $125, so I was really hoping that these sweet unmarked ones would fall somewhere in between, hopefully towards $40.
I get to the register and tell the guy my whole story and finish with, “I really hope they aren’t $100.”
After what felt like an eternity, he says, “How much did you hope they wouldn’t cost?”
I said, “I dunno, a lot?”
He paused for another eternity. He did that thing that the Cash Cab guy does when the people go for the double-or-nothing video question, long silence just to reveal that they doubled their winnings and “Congratulations.”
Right when I thought I couldn’t take it anymore $9.99 pops up on the screen and he goes, “Not $100.”
There it is. I am now the proud owner of a new outlook on life. True retail therapy turned salvation.
