Sunday is for Lovers. And Finks.

I ran into the Hot Wheel dorks today.  This is a major life event.  It was eight in the morning and they’re literally running into Toys to look at the Hot Wheel cars. 

I had heard tales of them before.  A warning if you will.  An ex who worked in a toy store had clued me in to their existence.  I knew of them, but never in my wildest dreams would I have thought that I would run into them, in the flesh!  It was like walking in on Santa Claus gently making tender, sweet love to the Easter Bunny through a “secret” hole that had been carved into it the night before.   “Intense” is another word you could use.  At work(!) if you’re inclined to repeat this story.  You might not get fired in that case!
 
“Do you have any [more] cars in the back?”

“What?”
 
Buddy, get a life.  Maybe if you spent less money on collectible cars you’d be able to actually buy a nicer car.  Or retire earlier.  Or perhaps just not embarrass your kids so much when their friends come over to visit.

I worked with a guy (the infamous Mr. I) who put the pictures of the cars he lusted after as his computer screen’s background.  As “dude” as that behavior is, it’s still tons better than these guys. 

Kudos to the Hot Wheels company for creating those “mystery car” packages.  It’s the normal Hot Wheels package, just with the car’s plastic viewer blacked out.  So you don’t know which car you’re buying.  It drives these guys crazy!  Then they’re stuck sneaking through the store trying to not get caught as they tear the packages open!  Which is an action you’d normally punish a child for participating in.  I wonder if they compulsively wash their hands afterwards? 

‘Cuz I need to wash out my mind after that Santa Claus line.

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