The last days of Acme looked like the end of the world or maybe a food pantry. Mostly empty disgusting cream and brown shelves except for a few items in boxes and everybody more worried about clearance deals like Mr. Fizz generic sodas for 33 cents than the checkout girl with the slightly chewed nails losing her job. I came in like that too and half thought maybe I’d score a huge box of oatmeal or maybe some discount frozen dinners but all I saw were some Super Bowl Eagles sweatshirts for $29.99 and I wanted to buy my dad one but couldn’t afford it. Still the daydream of it was nice at the end of the checkout line thinking of it there under his Christmas tree. The last days of Acme were one big ransacking of a small town grocery store out of place with old eighties floors and old men smelling heads of lettuce and I’m glad I didn’t hang around long to watch it go down.
