Wizards cast disgusting spells in world of retail

Can you believe that I recently had a close encounter with some of the antagonists from Harry Potter’s world?

There they were, four legit wicked wizards. And I didn’t even have to travel to Hogwarts to find them. Apparently, they hang their cloaks at the local mall.

The sightings occurred in a store the other evening as I was buying dorm supplies for Kyle. And when I say dorm supplies, I mean a new pair of walking shorts and some cologne, yo.

(See this space soon for a full dorm room report in the heart-rending novella about me leaving my kid at college. #Totally FreakingOut. I digress.)

There I stood, with Kyle’s essentials and a new pair of strappy sandals for his Mom in my hands. There were about six people in line ahead of me. So I did what any old gal would, I, you know, waited my turn in line. #Duh

I don’t mind it all that much. Let’s not be kooky — I don’t love it like it’s coffee or dark chocolate Hershey Kisses. It’s just that the older you get, the less you fret the little things. Well, the humans, anyway. The wizards maybe not so much.

So I stood there. Slowly and contentedly inching my way forward.

As I became the coveted “next” girl, I couldn’t help but notice the female wizards, cleverly masked as a woman shopper and her two daughters — one teen and one tween. It’s hard to ignore three beings boring a hole into the side of your head as they glare in your direction, you see. They were trolling me because, apparently, these wizards were also professional line jumpers.

Enter dork dude, the fourth wizard. This one was disguised as a 20-year-old man working in the back of the store. I use the term working rather liberally.

Naturally, he grumpily made his way to the front of the store only under duress. This after a kind young man flying solo behind the registers shot off his third round of “PLEASE, FOR THE LOVE OF ALL THAT IS DECENT, COME UP FRONT” flares from beneath the avalanche of jeans, tanks and fall jackets that snowed him under several minutes prior.

The wizard masquerading as the second cashier immediately showed some major ‘tude.

“Um, I was not finished man-scaping my cuticles, hello?” his eyes shouted when his very busy task of walking around aimlessly with an empty hanger was cut short by Sweet Boy’s (SB) cries for help.

Re-enter the witches, who flew their brooms straight into my rightful spot in line. SB gently pointed out that I was next and they replied by putting a hex on my hair (OK, fine, it always looks this bad) and chanting evil spells at both SB and me.

I whipped out some pixie dust. “He’s telling the truth, I really have been here a while,” I smiled as I sprinkled away.

They just threw an eye of newt at me and hissed in parsel tongue.

Rude Dude then “accidentally” smacked me with my bags and proceeded to berate SB for his “aggressiveness.” #SMH

I thought of countering their bad mojo with an old Italian curse but refrained.

Instead, I just smiled at and thanked SB, wished the wicked foursome a good evening … then dropped a brick house on that trio of twits and their slacky lackey. #IfOnlyICouldHave

Kimerer is a Tribune Chronicle columnist and mere mortal who just wants to buy her kid pants in peace. Visit her human blog at www.patriciakimerer.com

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