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Don't Eat Styrofoam Cookies

About a year ago, while living in Pittsburgh, I received a $50 gift card to Macy's from a friend. Not one to pass up the use of such things, I located the nearest Macy's in the city and went there after school. Over the course of my shopping spree (which was short-lived), I purchased a Claude Monet calendar, The Alchemist, The Stand, a Sauron bookmark (complete with a flaming eye bead on the tassel), and a t-shirt that is too small, despite its being my size.

Moving on, I should say that my purchases are of little to no relevance to this story. The most significant occurrence actually took place before I found anything to buy, on the second floor. I had stopped for a moment beside one of those glassware displays, on which plastic foods are often placed to enhance the appearance of the merchandise, when an old woman walked up beside me and stared at the display "food" for a few moments.

"Now, it's not that interesting," I thought to myself as she gazed at it for what must have been the better part of a minute. Then, something quite unexpected happened: she reached for one of the display cookies and snatched it up, taking a bite out of it and walking away. All I could muster was an awed stare for several moments as I stood there, dumbstruck.

After the initial shock wore off, the problem of the inevitable fit of laughter ensued, and I could already feel it building in my stomach. I quickly turned and darted for the nearest escalator, which was conveniently located not ten feet from where I stood. Halfway up, I could contain myself no longer, and immediately burst into a fit of hysterical laughter, nearly losing my balance. Around two minutes later, I managed to regain my composure.

Later, after having all but forgotten the events at the glassware display, I was making my way back to the first floor to return to my apartment and I saw that nearly half of the cookies were gone, and the woman was still hovering around the display. I stifled a laugh and shuffled past, eyes cast to the ground.

I love old people, sometimes.