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HomeGoods exists in a pocket dimension
separate from
the reality that you or I live day to day. I don't know if it's expert
store psychology, some kind of magical enchantment, aliens, or what, but
something is very, very Off about that place.
If you don't know what I mean then I will familiarize you with HomeGoods via a sensory walkthrough.
It's 4pm, you're bored out of your mind. You don't live near a single
exciting venue, location, happening, or really anything stimulating. The
most entertaining thing within miles is the local shopping center. Your
friend calls you, they say they want to hang. You ask what they want to
do. They have no idea. You both, at the same time, say, "Let's go to the
shopping center."
Your friend arrives 10 minutes later
and you get in their car. You listen to the local jazz station on your
way there. The route is familiar, you've been down this road countless
times. You arrive and park wherever is emptiest. You wander around,
looking at stores you've never been tempted to walk into, wondering who
they're even for.
You poke around GameStop and are
disappointed with their selection like always. Why'd they have to kill
their retro games section? Your Wii and PS2 still work perfectly fine
and nothing recent has interested you anyway.
Next door to
the GameStop is HomeGoods. Your friend looks at you and before they can
finish, "Wanna go in?" you flatly state, "May as well."
You have no need for home decorations. You don't even own a home. You
walk in full well knowing that you're not going to buy anything. The
automatic door slides open, the green frame becoming a portal as a low
electricity fills your limbs. You walk into the airlock between the
outer automatic door and the inner one. This space is completely
liminal, the threshold between reality, and HomeGoods.
You step through it without a single thought.
You are immediately hit by how expansive the store is, even though
you've been here plenty of times. The ceiling is so high and adorned
with florescent lights that feel sickly for an instant before your mind
adjusts and treats them as if they were daylight filtered through
clouds. The kind of soft lighting that makes it so everything is evenly
lit and casts no solid shadow.
Immediately before you is a
seasonal display of... things that vaguely fit the current holiday's
theme. Strange kitschy objects with no apparent function or aesthetic
appeal line the display table and shelves. The entirety of your
attention is pulled towards them despite their complete blandness. There
are dozens of variations on the same theme, all slightly different in
size and design with prices that seem to be marked on completely
arbitrarily.
A "Christmas Elf" that appears more like
a gnome with a hat that covers all of its face but its nose is
pathetically slumped on the display. With a featureless sack body and 4
floppy limbs, it sits at a whole 6 inches tall. Next to it is its twin, with slightly different patterning on
its arms, then another, and another. Behind them is an identical gnome, except it's 2
feet tall. The small ones are priced $7.99 and the large one is $19.99.
Are they supposed to be plushies? Some kind of decoration? Does it go
under the tree? The longer you puzzle this mystery the more HomeGoods
digs deep into your mind without you even noticing.
As
your eyes move from one confusing object to the next, you glance at the
shelves upon shelves upon shelves of other purposeless objects, lying in
wait. It is instantly too much for you to fathom and your attention
breaks from the seasonal display as you are drawn to aimlessly browse.
This is where HomeGoods has snagged you, where you truly leave reality
as a whole and enter the alternate reality, the pocket dimension, the
fae realm of trickery that is HomeGoods.
You walk
past children's toys whose lifeless faces should disturb you, but just
feel natural in this environment. In the middle of the aisle is a table
with a collection of precariously placed glassware ranging in size from
jars to three foot tall vases. You almost bump into this table and
wonder if it was intentionally set up as a trap as you cannot imagine
the kind of person who would even purchase them.
Everything begins blending together and you've only walked down one aisle. "How long have I been here?" is a thought you should
be having, but your mind has been numbed. You arrive at the pet
section, thinking surely this will provide some kind of new stimulus,
only to be met with pet versions of the same kitschy objects you have
been inundated by. You round the corner to be met with the bath section.
Towels upon towels. The least mentally stimulating thing you've seen
yet, dipping your dopamine to record low levels since entering the
store.
This is where you decide it's time to turn the corner and go down the other aisle when you are met with this.
Your mind completely shatters. A rush of dopamine and confusion leaves you stunned in mental whiplash.
What the fuck is this? Why
is it so big? What function does it serve? Why is it so out of place in
a store full of objects that would be out of place anywhere outside of
the store? Is $29.99 a lot for this or an absolute steal? Why did I pick
it up? I feel so crazy carrying this to the register. Why are the
employees scanning this and bagging it like normal? Don't they see how
insane of an object this is? Don't they wonder why the fuck am I
purchasing this? I want them to ask me. Because I don't even know why I'm purchasing it.
The ride back home is uneventful, you and your friend carry on
conversation as naturally and normally as any other time. A few minutes
out from home your friend mentions the King Gorilla head. You freeze.
The what? You look down between your feet where it sits in its bag. Oh yeah. You did
purchase that. Huh... You realize you have no idea how long you were
out, and how certain memories of the outing seem to not have a logical
connection between them, much like a dream.
Your friend drops you off home and you put the King Gorilla head down in front of your christmas tree and just stare at it.
This is an average trip to HomeGoods.
Comments
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Jeff
Thank you for this.
Kyori
i have lost all my sense of self. you have me completely convinced.
Morgan Tattered Hecatia
i would like to add that like. the fact this starts off the same way as your denny’s story. it left me feeling like i already knew how this would play out and so unprepared for king gorilla. genius
Lydia Bea KittyCat
Oh my fucking god mandy
Lottie
amazing, pure art, through and through
Lottie
W H A T
Morgan Tattered Hecatia
mandy i was just kind like “how many pocket dimensions does mandy know of” and then the king gorilla hit and i fucking broke