No Escape From the 24 Store

Not too long ago my daughter told me to go check out The 888 International Market and Cafe in Overland Park, Kansas. She said, "I love it. It's great."

First I thought, "well, big deal, it's a grocery store." Then I thought, "hey, my mother-in-law is coming for a visit, maybe that'd be something cool to take her to."

HUGE mistake number one... For you see, as much as I love my mom-in-law, I had forgotten what a "shopper" she is. And get her together with my wife, they've been known to vanish within one store for hours at a time. (I can't believe I had so easily forgotten the Infamous Shoe Store Trauma of 2006. I must've blocked it out, just too traumatic and painful to recall. After being in the tiny shoe store for hours and hours, I now have PTSD: Post Traumatic Shoe Drama. I mean, c'mon, shoes are things you stick on your feet! Not much to see!)

Anyway, the three of us trundled off to the 888 International Market. Curious as to why it was called "888 (which sounds like a telemarketing company)," I did a little research, but didn't get very far. Apparently, in some cultures "888" signifies financial abundance and material wealth. I believe it after seeing the prices in the store. (It could've been worse, I suppose...I wonder what the 666 Market has to offer?)

My daughter thinks "The 888 International Market and Cafe" takes too long to say, so she's handily shortened the title to "The 24 Store" for easier, quicker reference, but I digress.

So we entered the store. And it's...overwhelming. Aisles and aisles and miles and aisles of some of the most colorful, expensive, rare, and downright gross items you've ever seen amassed under one roof. The store lived up to its lengthy moniker: while specializing in Asian foods from around the world, other countries and cultures were likewise represented.

There's an entire aisle devoted to squid jerky! Literally dozens and dozens of squid jerky options. I don't know about you, but one option is probably too much for my shy, Americanized palate.

And, hey, you want sea cucumber? It's only $229.99 a pound. Bargain!

Once I stumbled onto the duck egg aisle, I'd had about enough. Multiple colors of huge duck eggs, all of them ugly blacks, greens, browns, and other unappealing colors. Not only had I had enough, my stomach had, too.

The problem is it was the second aisle in the store and my wife and mom-in-law were looking at Every...Single...Item.

I said, "Are you going to look at everything in the store?"

"Probably," they said.

I couldn't even see the back of the store, worse than a never-ending corn-maze. Even worse, they didn't even have a "husband bench." So, I bailed, sat out in the car and did rewarding things like play a game on my phone.

After another hour, I went back in to check their progress. Once I found them, they'd completed almost 2/3 of the store, yet they hadn't even left the food section yet! Uh-oh, I thought while staring at all of the cookware, gifts, pottery, furniture, you name it, they had it. Pretty sure there was even a kitchen sink aisle.

Back to the car I stalked as I cursed myself for offering this ludicrous day outing to them in the first place. I had naively forgotten that my idea of shopping (dash in, pull it off the shelf, toss some money down, where the hell's the exit?) doesn't coexist with theirs as I sat in the back of the car like an abused dog.

Men, please take heed of my cautionary tale.

My short story collection, Twisted Tales from Tornado Alley, is also full of cautionary tales, but they generally end a bit more horrifically than my recent shopping trauma (although if I convinced myself of that while sitting in the parking lot that day, I'd have called myself a damn liar!). We have underground monsters, Bigfoot love, psychopathic children, strange vegetation, giant bugs, and more ghoulish fun than you can shake a scythe at. Check it out here.