I WROTE THE THING! @thehibiscusthief requested a full writeup, which in my case means 945 words about the mystery and majesty of TJ Maxx.
The thing about TJ Maxx, when you enter its sliding doors with the sun high in the sky and all the possibilities of the day ahead of you, is that you think it will just be a short trip. You will be lying to yourself.
“I’ll just check out the clearance real quick.”
“We could use a new wooden spoon. In and out!”
“I’m just popping in to see if there’s a side table that will work in the living room.”
I cannot claim to know the thoughts running through Eric Bittle’s head on the day he entered TJ Maxx, but it is safe to say it was something along these lines. Then the millenium began.
His first century was spent, hand resting on the cart handle, perusing the small section of seasonal goods at the front of the store. The items shimmered and shifted, shaped like autumn leaves and pool floats and Christmas trees and spring flowers. After one hundred years, he grabbed a scented candle with a crystal glued on top and moved on.
The first half of the second century was spent in the section called “Travel” by the optimistic, “Wasteland of Purses and Luggage” by the wise. Fifty years went by as he pondered whether or not a new carry-on would be worth $30, before he decided that it wasn’t very good quality. The second half of the second century was dedicated to the first clearance section. Alas, it was a waste, as all the items piled onto the shelves were broken beyond repair.
His third century brought him to the health and beauty section. A good hand soap for the kitchen would be nice. Lemon Verbena or French Lavender– which of these contenders would truly eradicate the smell of garlic? After ninety-nine years, he decided to get both.
For his fourth century, he at last reached the kitchen section. Here he spent another two hundred years, first sorting through discounted spices and strange snacks. “That’s a good deal on saffron,” he said to himself, tossing it into the cart. “I’ve never tried jalapeno banana chips combined with trail mix, but maybe this will be good.” He pushed the cart one aisle down to peruse the kitchen goods. He frowned.
“This section should be good,” he said to himself. “But it will be hit or miss.” Years passed while he considered an orange potato peeler and a small nonstick pan. Both were in his cart when he wheeled out of the aisle.
Five hundred years had passed when at last he turned his attention to the center of T.J. Maxx, where furniture and various home decorations dwelled. A ceramic pineapple? Yes. In the cart. A drawer organizer? Double yes, since it was only $2.97. Seasonal decorations– by this time, Eric Bittle had lost his sense of what seasons or weather were, but you cannot go wrong with decorative dish towels. He chose one set with pumpkins and one set with sea shells. He thought he could remember what a beach was. A side table occupied his thoughts for fifty years, before he decided against it. A bargain is no bargain if it doesn’t fit into the home’s aesthetics, after all. He thought he remembered what his home looked like. Ah, yes. A pillow that declares “Pizza is my BFF.” Perfect. This would be ideal for the couch.
The next century, his seventh in T.J. Maxx, was dedicated to the far corner of the store. He found some fresh new sheets, at an excellent price. The most distant clearance section provided him with two planters– slightly chipped at the bottom, so only $5 apiece. Eric Bittle considered the pet section. True, he did not have a dog or a cat. But maybe he would, and he would need toys. Reluctantly, he walked away.
The eighth century found him in the technology area. Phone cases were piled high here. It appeared to only be phone cases, made for phones long gone and phones yet to come. Cables spilled from the display like the tentacles of a great beast, shifting whenever his eyes drifted away. A battered package seemed to
He spent the ninth century in the clothing area. While it is true that the clothing section of T.J. Maxx is perhaps the most mercurial department, it would be foolish of him to not even look. He found a nice button up shirt, from a brand that he thought he’d never heard of.
His last century was spent in line. Several middle-aged women (if age had any bearing here, in the T.J. Maxx of eternity) were ahead of him. As he swiped his credit card, he felt the time of the outside world start to regain its grip upon him. He pushed the cart into the cart corral and stepped back into the timeline of the outside world.
Eric Bittle pulled his phone out of his pocket and glanced at the time. It was the same day as he entered, but it was dark now. It was only 4PM, though– that’s just how winter works. He walked toward the parking lot, calling his boyfriend as he looked for the car.
“Jack! Hey, I just got out of T.J. Maxx, are you back yet?” The lights of a silver SUV clicked on. “Oh! I see you there, sweetheart.” He hung up and hurried to the passenger side, hesitating before opening the trunk and shoving his bags inside. Jack offered him a Starbucks cup as he slid into the passenger seat, clicking his seatbelt.
“Aw, thank you, sweatpea,” he said. He drank gratefully– it had been a millennium since he had eaten or drank, after all.
