Stuff Me

So, I was just walking through the mall, when I walked past one of those "Build a Bear" shops. If you're not familiar with the idea, it goes something like this: you pick out a basic teddy bear shape, stuff it, and then dress it the way you like with accessories that you pick from the store (and spend a fortune on). In the end, you have your very own customized teddy bear, that probably cost you about a hundred bucks to make.

Walking by said store, I noted the signs hanging from the ceiling, detailing the process. "Build Me", one sign said. "Dress me" said another. And then, hanging on the far wall, was a sign that said "Stuff me".

I guess it's just my male conditioning acting up, but when I hear "Stuff me", I usually have a good feeling that the night is going to have a happy ending. Or at least a "moderately satisfying" ending. So, when I saw that sign, I started thinking about all the happy times I've heard some variant of "stuff me" being said, and how things played out.

Remember, though. I'm standing in front of a store populated by eight year old girls dragging their mothers around by one hand whilst stuffing overpriced teddy bears. Starbucks in one hand, staring vacantly into space.

Alarm bells started ringing in my head - klaxons and red lights going off like the final scene in pretty much any episode of Star Trek.

Don't get turned on, Dave, I muttered to myself. Now is not the time.

I beat a hasty retreat, and wondered if anyone else suffers from problems like this when they go to the mall.