In lighter news, my taste has been insulted. Again. Not by a snarky Wal-Mart employee, either. Nope, this time it was even better.

Yesterday I drove to a big party supply store after work to see if I could replace our Tiki lights. I get to the shopping center, park the car, stroll to the store and walk in. The party supply store is gone. Gone. It was there a month ago. Now it’s a Hallmark store.

I can’t tell you the depths to which I despise the manufactured cuteness that is Hallmark. Hallmark is definately one of the levels in my personal vision of hell. It’s not one of the higher more benign levels, like the Sears auto-shop waiting room level. No, Hallmark is one of the lower, more painful, levels. Realllly close to the brimstone and the fire.

Needless to say, I’m standing there looking pretty horrified when the snippy clerks comes up and starts condescending to me.

“Can I help you?”
“Wasn’t this a party supply store?”
“It’s a Hallmark store.”
“Okay.”
“Can I help you?” (more nasal this time)
“I’m looking for Tiki Lamps.”
“How TACKY.”

Yeah. That’s right, dude. I’m waaaay beneath you. May you live a long life and someday reign supreme in the Kingdom of Beani Baby Heaven.

I’m two for two. Any other god-awful places I can go for personal insults? Maybe I’ve found a new hobby.