Scared myself suburban

Like any other Sunday in recent memory, I had some work on the house to do. So, on my way home from Baltimore, I stopped at the convenient Home Depot in Columbia off Snowden River Parkway to pick up supplies. Pulling up to a red light at some generic intersection between I-95 and the mall, I noticed a couple teenagers holding signs and cans. Oh god, I thought to myself. Now there's homeless people even in the damn suburbs? And they're teenagers! Unfortunately, I was turning left, so I couldn't move to the center lane to avoid the imminent guilt trip. As I pulled up to the light, though, I read the signs they were holding. "Help Save Children With Cancer." OK, maybe I've been living in the city too long...

I turned the corner and soon I was in sight of the megamall that held my Home Depot of choice. Then I remembered that I'd been trying to find a couple other things for the house. I desperately need a coat tree, as my house has exactly three closets, and none of them are on the first floor. Coats have been hanging from doors, chairs, or simply piled on the floor. And in the last case, they will inevitably be shed upon severely by the cats, requiring great efforts with a lint roller. This situation had gone far enough, and I figured the suburban shop-o-rama would be as good a place as any to find such a thing.

Strangely, this particular mall has no department store, like a Target. So the best option seemed to be Bed, Bath and Beyond. I wandered in, wide-eyed at the vast array of kitchen and bathroom supplies. Towels. How many different kinds of towels can possibly be needed to satisfy bland suburbanites? I never dreamed it could be so many, but there they were, plush and vibrant in their many pastel colors.

I found my coat tree. It wasn't even a bad one, for $69.99. And then it hit me like a ton of bricks as I was walking back to the truck with my new coat tree and doormat that I'd spied on the way to the register.

I've just gone to Bed, Bath and Beyond, and I'm on my way to Home Depot.