Big Lots--the 21st Century Dungeon

There are very few things in this world that scare me. Being an old cops reporter, I've seen about as bad as it gets. Remember, I've seen 37 executions, countless dead bodies, you name it. Even had a gun and a knife pulled on my way back when--and yes, those DO scare me.

But not as much as Big Lots.

Ever been in a Big Lots?

No?

Then don't. They are scary, scary places, my friends. They are scarier than Joe Biden with a six-pack of Viagra, non-sequential $100 bills, a suite in Vegas and the Magic Mirror saying, "Damn, Mr. Vice President, you are a sexy bitch! Put that leather jacket and shades back on!"

I've been in a few Big Lots. Not just the one here in Pearland. And all of them, somehow, have the same feel--sort of like the big warehouse you see at the end of Raiders of the Lost Ark, without that nice, homey feel.

Instead, they're all big, dank, dark and generally foreboding. You get the feeling someone's going to jump out from behind one of the big piles of throw pillows and gut you with a chainsaw. Or, perhaps, merely jump out and scream, "NO ONE expects the Spanish Inquisition!"

Of course, if that were to happen, the person behind the Spanish Inquisitor would then shoot him. That's how screwed up a Big Lots feels to me.

Big Lots have some interesting stuff, like real goods that are remarkably cheap. They also have some seriously screwed up stuff, like dozens of copies of movies with Jeff Foxworthy in a serious dramatic role. Or Peanut Brittle that looks like it was produced in Ethiopia. Or blue water hoses. I've never seen a blue water hose anywhere else. Then again, I haven't seen movie Andrew McCarthy has made in 20 years, but I know he has, because Big Lots has 59 copies of it.

Oh, and every Big Lots store has the same smell. They're all musty and mildewy, one step short of smelling like death. With the halogen lights kinda/sorta working, it can give off a very scary vibe. Then again, maybe it does smell like death, and the Spanish Inquisitor died trying to eat some of that Ethiopian Peanut Brittle and chased it with some washing detergent I've never heard of. It would take weeks for someone to find him, because nobody goes back in the food section anyway.

Why do I bring this up? Because I'll probably be decending into the hell that is the local Big Lots this weekend to get some plastic containers. And, when I do, I'll have my guns on.

I really don't want to be forced to watch that Foxworthy melodrama.