When it comes to having a big sale at the pawn shop where I work, you may not be able to predict what the exact sales will be, you may not be able to find what you want, you never know what kind of mood I will be in (although, chances are I will be in a foul mood and trying not to scowl at the droves and droves of customers who just won't go away), but one thing is for certain--there will be balloons.
We had balloons for the sidewalk sale, we had balloons for the One Day Sale, and we had balloons for Black Friday. We also usually leave the balloons displayed about the store for several days after our sales. I mean, why not? The helium is still good. But one thing I am certain most people do not realize is that we reuse our balloons.
The balloons themselves are the shiny, more expensive kind, and being the frugal business woman she is, the head manager of the store refills these balloons for $3 a piece instead of buying new ones for $5 each whenever we have a sale. But, in order to do this, we have to keep the balloons. It would seem like it would make sense to untie the ribbons that keep the helium trapped inside, carefully fold the balloons up, and then store them somewhere until they are needed, but we don't do that. Instead, we lead the balloons through the backroom into the bathroom and leave them there until they fulfill their balloony purpose.
This has given me a great deal of exposure to balloons, and my observations have led me to conclude that there are three stages in a balloon's life.
Stage 1 : Carefree Youth
This stage lasts for about a week. When stored in the bathroom, they are magnetized to the ceiling. The light bulbs filter through them and the bathroom is tinted with shades of green and purple. They are playful and carefree like all youthful balloons are, and they warm my heart because whenever I venture through the multitude of balloons strings that hang down from the ceiling, I can't help but imagine I am Tarzan swinging through the jungle.
Stage 2 : Delightfully Creepy Middle Agedness
This stage lasts for about two weeks and signals when they balloons begin to grow tired. Analogous to losing their minds, they being to lose their helium. Most of the balloons stay in the bathroom and just mill about lethargically amongst themselves, hovering about at chest height, but they may be sometimes found doing strange things. There was one green balloon that seemed like it was taunting me. I went to go to the bathroom and it was hovering in the center of the doorway as if to block my entrance. Later that day, I turned around and it was floating not three feet behind me as if it had been waiting for me to notice it. I kept returning that odd balloon to the bathroom, but it kept aimlessly venturing throughout the back area of the store, almost as if it had dementia.
Stage 3 : Euthanasia-Justifying Decrepidness
This is the part when balloons should just be put out of their misery. The longer the balloons are left in the bathroom, the more pathetic they look. Their original vitality and cheerfulness is but a hazy memory as they are blown across the floor like dust bunnies. They are on their deathbeds, begging for us to release the last of their helium so they can finally find rest. This past week, I noticed that they had all been shoved into a corner of the bathroom and had stayed there. It was a nice change of pace as they weren't constantly underfoot, but then I noticed that they were huddling around a plunger that I knew had been recently put to use. Their ribbon strings were tangled around the handle and plastic plunger, and I didn't even want to imagine the microscopic horrors they had come in contact with.
I never recognized how diverse the life of a balloon is. But, all in all, even though they are fun to have around, no civilized human being should let them become so old that they lose the majority of their helium and become best friends with the plunger. It's a horrible way to end a life, and I really don't like the idea of reusing balloons that have fecal germs all over them.
No comments:
Post a Comment