It’s a packed room, almost like any organization is an afterthought, but it’s obvious some thought went into how things are grouped together. All the clutter, though, makes the store look tinier than it probably is. The Orchallen behind the desk ignoring me as I pick through the collection of…things that I want to call trash pilfered through a bin, but that would be unkind. Plus, I’m here to buy a gift, so it seems a mite hypocritical to thumb my nose at a store where I’m simultaneously desperately hoping to find something for a colleague I don’t like very much.
It's that time of year where some celebrate Cassita and her foresight, hoping she will bless the upcoming year. I think it’s a garbage holiday, but people like receiving gifts. My boss strives to make things as annoying and cumbersome as possible, so here I am…in a precarious quagmire of…things. I think for those most religious this holiday is supposed to be about giving tokens to Cassita at one of her shrines. With the increasing importance of commerce, it’s more about gift exchanges where people either forget or choose not to think about the original purpose.
Everyone at work had to select a name in secret and buy something that is “reasonably” priced, but the organizer of this situation failed to define reasonable; I’m sure that’s on purpose. The organizer has a fixation on our resident Sahaia, so it wouldn’t surprise me if there was some nonaccident accident where she would be responsible for getting him something she dreams will be fancy and a declaration of love.
If she’s waiting for a declaration of anything, it will be for the Sahaia to express his devotion to himself. I’ve never heard him talk about anyone else, and everyone knows he talking about himself because he uses third person. He’s hardly virginal with his social life from the murmurs around the office, but he’s also not a player…unlike the Terran. The Terran is the kind of person you love to hate. He goes through partners like socks, but he’s not a bad guy. He’s actually pretty decent if you aren’t on his romantic radar, which I’m not.
In any case, I was unlucky to choose the guy Kintar, and he’s just mercilessly annoying. Everything is a competition because he’s trying to get his Kinar female peer to notice him. She’s noticed him and has found him lacking, which he either won’t acknowledge or doesn’t notice. He goes around the office making “jokes” for attention, but really he’s just a jerk-face, and we are all sick of him. What I should do is find something in my kitchen junk drawer to give him and call it good, but knowing my luck, that plan would blow up in my face.
So…here I am…at kitsch galore, which I’ve driven past so many times, but never entered. I’m not sure what compelled me to stop in now. Maybe it was the advertisement that was looking at me while reading the news this morning. It felt like kismet…trashy gift kismet. Looking around the shop I can tell that the Orchallen storeowner put some holiday effort into things…barely. I can appreciate the lackluster gesture. I can’t stand this time of year.
As I move around the store, I find myself curling inward to avoid knocking things over. Some of the merchandise looks fragile…like the various glass religious idols. I can’t help but stop to look closer. I’m not religious to be around depictions of the various gods, but some of these are vaguely pornographic. I’m almost embarrassed to give them any attention…almost. These are absolutely fascinating. I probably won’t get this for the Kintar I’m assigned to, but one of these figurines would be a fantastic conversational piece in my home. Or I could get one for my oomare. She wouldn’t appreciate it, but it would be hilarious watching her open the box and discover it for the first time. I mean, why have parents if you can’t make them regret birthing you?
I’m not so current on the various gods out there, as it always seems like a new one emerges all the time depending on who I’m talking to. But the Thule tentacle statue porn I’m looking at is worth the hefty price tag. It must be a classic depiction because there are four of them on the shelf, and each of them a creative version of something I didn’t know was necessary to own, but I’m seriously considering it because who wouldn’t want a phallic tentacled god sitting on your shelf? The Khepri statue isn’t wearing pants, which is a creative choice given I’ve never seen any depictions of him without armor. The goddesses on display kinda merge into one interchangeable large breasted yawn-fest. It seems like no matter what the race is, dudes are gonna dude.
Venturing on I’m suddenly hit with a powerful smell…or more than one smell, what is that? Looking around my near vicinity…ah…perfume and incense…can’t have a kitsch store without that…unfortunately. That’s really horrible.
Oh, and are those books? I have to know what the Orchallen is choosing to sell on that front, especially when paper isn’t really something you see all that often. This place has a selection of paper books, unexpectedly. I can’t imagine what the material actually is, but I appreciate the effort. Having one of these on my coffee table, no matter what the book is about, would be an automatic conversation starter. Looking at the price…whoa…I don’t need conversation that much. I’m also getting distracted.
Maybe I’ll get the Kintar some perfume and giggle as I watch his face opening it. Knowing my luck he’ll think it’s marvelous and I’ll have one more thing to hate about him, and it would be my fault. It would make me an office pariah because that shit stinks.
Those pictures are nice. Actually, no they aren’t. What material is that because it’s not paint or stain? I reach out to touch one of the images, but the Orchallen snaps at me to keep my sticky fingers off his stuff unless I’m going to buy it. I begrudgedly step back and continue to look at the pictures like it’s a bad hover accident yielding ghastly death and destruction. The pictures are comprised of nice textures though. I really want to know what the materials are.
After entirely too long, I pull myself away. I really need to find something and move on with my day. This store is clearly a hidden gem that I underestimated when I first walked in. I’ll definitely be back if for no other reason than buying a pornographic statue of a god, my friends will be so jealous.
Looking around in an unfocused way, I almost collide into a table heaped with a display of Terran gadgets…OOO…these have to be good. Terrans are incredibly creative, even if it’s a challenge to understand what some of them do. I pick up a small trinket thing and immediately put it down after it gives me a chill and a sudden spike of anxiety. Once it’s back on the table, I’m immediately fine. Fascinating. I lift it up and put it down a few more times. I can’t fathom why a Terran would create an item purposefully giving someone a psychological problem, but to each their own.
The large contraption in the back makes…toast? Does toast making really need to be that complicated? Wait…does it make the bread and then toast it? Why does fresh bread need to be toasted? I have so many questions.
Looks like there a few robot toys for kids, which is always questionable. Terrans don’t always think highly of other species, so I wouldn’t put it past one of them to do something that might make a kid cry. That sounds terrible. I don’t actually think Terrans desire the mistreatment of kids. I think it would just give some Terrans a perverse pleasure to make a parent annoyed by a shitty gift. Most likely the robots are designed to not work consistently…or maybe they make noise that doesn’t stop for love or money. If I’m honest, that’s brilliant.
Some of the other gadgets look interesting. What happens when I turn this one on—Oh, it’s a penis…a very scary one. Moving on.
That’s a very festive neck covering display. Reaching up to touch one…It’s totally itchy. I’m about to walk past before it occurs to me that an ugly, itchy cloth for the Kintar is a top contender for my gift. Maybe he’d get a rash. A bonus is that this gift wouldn’t torment others with a nausea inducing smell.
This jewelry doesn’t seem bad for people with excentric taste in skin adornments. I question how valuable these pieces are despite the heavily alarmed display cases. Oh, I see, these are supposed to have godly power…hmmm… It’s not completely unreasonable to have artifacts with a magical component. Other worlds possess materials that are fantastical when transported somewhere else. That said, there is also a pretty hefty market peddling fake stuff, and there is no real way to know for sure until you have the object home and try to wield it. Fun fact, some of the “magic” only works on the planet where the mystical material comes from. It has something to do with the atmosphere. More times than not they give the wearer a rash…much like the neck gaiter I was just looking at. If these things weren’t so expensive, I’d consider them for the Kintar too.
Interestingly enough there seems to be gift packs that contain a mix of metals, herbs, and oils referred to as “power builders.” I snort loudly and try to cover it up with a cough when the Orchallen glares at me. I can’t help it. Psionic Power Builders? Really? Such bullshit that only insecure desperate people would believe. That said, I can name a couple people in my office off the top of my head that gullible. And it looks like a person would be obligated to purchase the accompanying book…the marketing is ingenious.
Don’t get me wrong, there are definitely judgy people around who look down on all of us without any psionic potential, but those people are usually annoying to be around anyway. I’ve been on my fair share of courtships with people flexing their random potential at me hoping I’ll be impressed. The fact of the matter is most people with psionic potential can’t do much more than a party trick with it. But those assholes are the worst with their condescension and general unpleasantness. I went out with one person who wore a costume around, but all they could do was move an empty glass across a small table.
I find my way to the center of the store, and where have these beauties been hiding? The vases are gorgeous with their bright translucent and transparent colors and intricate designs throughout. Some include more than one substance to create truly stunning artwork. I look at the tag and see these are creations from a noteworthy Maur artist. But then I look even more closely at the name on one of the tags; it totally has an extra letter. I have to say I’m impressed. These are convincing knockoffs.
I’m completely at a loss of what to get. I really don’t want to get anything cool because my person assignment isn’t worth it, but I need to get something. I’m thinking things over as I stare blankly at the pretentious postcards that are meant to be clever and the Nethraverse star maps that are quite detailed. Looking closer, the maps are out of date, but not old enough to be of historical interest. They are just cheap things for people who don’t know better about how everything goes together in the wider Netheraverse. The only thing worse would be space images of flat planets. They aren’t inexpensive either, nor are the postcards. I can’t imagine who would buy either of those products…scratch that. I know people who would buy the postcards and think it makes them superior with the decoratively written wit as they attach them to the door their ice food box.
The Orchallen interrupts my thoughts, “Are you buying something or what?”
I’m a little startled and stumble over my words. “Oh…yeah…this is a really super collection of…things. Are you the owner of this fine establishment?” He grunts at me. Is that a yes? I clear my throat because this is already an awkward conversation. “So…maybe you can help me because I’m kinda stuck.” The Orchallen continues to stare at me…tough crowd. “Yeah…anyway…I need to buy this guy I don’t like at my office a gift for one of those horrible exchanges. How do I say ‘I don’t like you’ without pissing off my boss because I’m not taking the whole thing seriously?”
The Orchallen stares some more before he turns around sharply, waving me along with a single sweep of his hand. “I have something for that.”
“I’m sure he does.” I scurry along after him.
(Image description: a cluttered souvenir display with brightly colored indistinguishable items, as well as bowls and jewelry. Some on tables, and bags and other things hanging from the ceiling. A narrow aisle in the middle. Image credit: Mental Floss)
