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there is a venue near my parents' home called "private dancer/adult bookstore." i always wanted to go there when i was little because it combined the two things i loved so much: dancing and books. i was taking tap lessons at the time, and thought one day i'd be able to perform there, my first step on my way to broadway. also, i was jealous of the adults who went to the "adult bookstore." i thought that meant they were books for people who were advanced readers. i couldn't wait until i was well read enough to go there. little did i know they were all picture books.
When my brother and I were younger, my mother didn't want us wandering around in the grocery store and getting into things. For that reason, she told us that it was illegal to get out of the shopping cart. "What about the other children that are out of the cart?" we asked. "Their mommies are going to be arrested."
My brother and I believed that we could make a fort behind the rows of toilet paper in the supermarket. Then we would wait until the store closed and eat everything in sight.
My sister would always bring a lunch size bag of potato chips whenever we went to a department store. She didn't eat them herself, she would feed them to the mannequins. She believed that they came to life after the store was closed and they were relying on children to leave some food behind because adults did not know they were alive.
I used to believe that the "black market" was a physical flea market somewhere in Central America where you could buy stolen paintings and Russian tanks.
I believed when I was a child that a man lived in the Kentucky Fried Chicken bucket (on top of the sign) and he was always chasing his furniture while it kept turning.
I used to belive that when shops closed at the end of the day, the shopkeeper took all the things off the shelves and took them home... only to bring them back the next morning and put them back again.
When I was little, my dad told me that when the mall closed at night, zombies came out and ate all the people who were locked inside. It backfired, though, one night when we were still at the mall at closing time and I started freaking out.
When I was around five, I asked my older brother where store mannequins came from; he told me that these were shoplifters that the store's boss had shot a ray at that turned them into stone, and that is why they were in such odd poses, as they were desperately running away when the ray got them- separate hand, arm, foot, and leg mannequins were grazing hits by the same ray, or when the store decided to show some mercy. I decided never to shoplift, and was in fear that I would see someone that I recognized as a mannequin someday.
When I was about three years old, the elevator Mother and I were riding in somehow skipped the ground floor and we went all the way to the basement. It was dark and spooky and there was a garbage incinerator in it. Men were feeding broken cardboard boxes and other trash into it and the fire was very high. I thought we had accidentally gone all the way down to Hell. I had nightmares about elevators for years.
When I was young, I used to really want a "lion chop" from the butcher, because I reckoned it would be cool to eat a lion. My mother used to look at me like an idiot whenever I asked her to get me one when she went to the butcher. It was only later when I was about 8 I read the sign properly and saw it actually said "loin chop". D'oh!
When I was little, I believed in "good" and "bad" shops. I hadn't quite grasped the object of getting change when you didn't pay them the exact amount, so I thought that nice shops gave you money back for shopping with them, and nasty shops didn't. I can remember thinking I was really smart with my little theory, until one shocking day...We'd been to sainsburys before and they's always given us change, so I thought they liked me. One day though, WE DIDNT GET ANY CHANGE. My parents started walking off so I stood by the cashtill waiting.They eventually had to drag me away screaming "they dont like me anymore!!"
When I was little I didn't understand the concept of the intercoms at Meijers stores very well. I thought that the building had a second story, and that there were people who were paid to lay on their stomachs on the 2nd floor and talk down through the intercoms in the ceiling. I just imagined all these people spread out flat on the second floor, doing nothing but talking through holes in the floor so that we could hear them.
When I was little I used to have the habit of sticking my hand up inside vending machines, trying to reach the candy.
One day my mom told me that I shouldn't stick my arm up into the machine, because there were little men inside who dispensed the candy, and if I put my arm up inside far enough, they would grab me, pull me in, and I would forever spend my life as a vending machine worker.
To this day (I'm 22 now) I still have to get someone to reach into the vending machine pockets to fish out whatever I purchase.
When I was a kid I used to believe the "Help Wanted" signs up in store fronts were really a political statement in direct opposition to "Wanted: Dead or Alive" type posters.
Thanks to my parents, I believed that the only way you could open one of those Automatic Sliding Doors (the kinds at Stores) was by smiling really big.
I'm sure the camera people thought I was nuts!
When I was little I used to think that the handicapped spaces were for people who had to go to the bathroom really bad. I thought that the picture of the person on the wheelchair was someone sitting on the toilet.
Years ago, when VCR's and Beta machines were newly available for household use, I remember going to video rental stores and seeing areas that had curtains over the entrance. I was told that there were poronographic movies there, and I thought they were filming them, not renting and selling them! (No, I didn't try to peek through the curtains, you pervert!)
When I was a kid my dad used to tell me that there were two toys-r-us's. One was a real toys-r-us and the other was a fullscale cardboard cut-out model of the real toys-r-us, and me and my brother used to always ask "dad, dad, is that the real toys-r-us?" so he always got away without buying us toys.
When my younger sister was just beginning to read, she would try to read all the signs she came across. In one of our favorite stores were dressing rooms bearing the sign "no more than 2 garments in dressing room at one time". She thought it read "no more than 2 grandmas in dressing room at one time" and was very concerned about what would happen to the 3rd grandma.
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