Dim

One afternoon, my pal DSoll and I decided to skip out of work early to catch a flick. We decided on the flick, and were out in a flash. Our bosses had left town, and we had only one task to complete: buy a lightbulb for their lighting equipment and FedEx it to them at their Vegas hotelroom.

We jumped in my Jetta and hauled ass. The place we were going only sold lightbulbs, apparently. Specialization in retail fascinates me, and I was looking forward to meeting these entrepreneurs. I pictured myself firing tough questions at them, having them returned effortlessly and thoroughly. I was imagining them all being the Martina Navratilovas of LightBulbs.

Was there a bad year for bulbs? Is there a time of year where lights blow fewer bulbs and sales sag? Do people go there to replace Christmas bulbs at Christmastime? How much is a bulb for a 10K HMI? These questions rattled in my head as we charged toward the store. These people were sure to be down home and helpful. They were, technically, the Givers of Light, and were that much closer to holiness than the rest of us.

We entered through the doors, burned out bulb in hand. There was no one in the store. I looked at their dusty shelves and saw some colored gaff tape, some safety chains, and an Itty BItty Book Light. Still no people.

When I rounded the corner, I saw them. There were about six of them, all sitting at desks. They were intensely focused on their computer screens (which looked like Commodore 64s) and ignoring the bells that signaled our arrival. DSoll and I looked at each other.

"Hello!" DSoll said, trying to be brave.

Their heads turned towards us, one by one. We breathed a sigh of relief, because they snapped out of their haze and appeared to be docile and housebroken. One even stopped masticating his Laffy Taffy to say "Hi."

DSoll continued. "Nice day out, huh?" They continued to stare. "Little cloudy, though. Okay. We're looking for this lightbulb."

Taffy Man looked confused, because the bulb we said we were looking for was right in DSoll's hand. A blonde woman of a ghostly pallor took a big breath inward. We readied ourselves for a stream of light-centered information. Perhaps she would produce the bulb, even.

"A lightbulb?" she said.

This was not the reaction we were hoping for, as we stood within the walls of an establishment dedicated entirely to selling...lightbulbs.

"Yup. Can we have one of these?" the sales staff held their gaze, and I wondered how it was possible that these Givers of Light could so closely resemble cattle. I was standing off to the side of this spectacle, observing in silence. My palm rested on the counter, making an imprint in the dust.

"What kind is it?" Ghostie said.

"We were hoping you could tell us that." DSoll was getting impatient. And when he gets impatient, his voice takes on a sharper sense of intellectual superiority than usual and he gets this slightly wide-eyed look about him, as if to say "Well? Are you living on this planet with the rest of us?" He keeps it all inside, though, which almost makes it more upsetting.

"Let me see." Ghostie stood up, although I strongly believed that Taffy Man, with his tree-trunk legs and barrel chest was better prepared to do some leg work. The other four people, thawing from the initial surprise, let their eyes slide slowly back towards their computer screens.

When she reached us, which was about three minutes later, she examined the bulb. She turned it upside down, sideways, and far away from her face. When she finally determined that it was in fact a lightbulb, she shuffled over to an old man's desk. He was obviously the Alpha male of the group, because Taffy and the other men in the room lacked the chutzpah to dethrone him, even though they're 25 years younger.

"What kind of bulb is this?" she inquired with an air of lackadaisicality that comes only from years of asking the same question.

"Oh, that's a good one. Don't see many of those come through here. Let me create the order." After taking DSoll's name, his company's name, phone number, social security number, and blood type, he tossed the form casually on the desk and requested payment.

"Do you have the bulb?" DSoll asked, trying to sound innocent.

"Sure, I'll have Ramon figure out if it's back there." Ramon, exhibiting his addiction to speed in his Nike sandals, sauntered behind some plastic hanging beads in the shape of alien heads. He proceeded to crash into something and bring down what sounded like the entire stockroom. No one in the office flinched.

DSoll walked over to Alpha Males' desk, as he showed no signs of getting up himself. DSoll sighed and made a huge show of pulling out his wallet to delay paying for a bulb that Speedy might have just broken in the recent fray.

All of a sudden, there was a plastic vampire troll on his shoulder that was screaming "Rawwr!" in a weird electronic child's voice. The troll was in the hand of a chubby white man with coke bottle glasses who was giggling like a schoolgirl.

"Funny, huh?" DSoll seemed more perplexed than amused. I, however, had lost my mind giggling. DSoll threw me a dirty look from across the room and pulled out 2 twenty dollar bills from the wallet. "That's quite the little troll you've got there," he managed to say with straight face.

"Scary, huh?" Coke Bottle said, and retreated to his desk. "Doesn't seem right to just take it out for Halloween." Taffy nodded in agreement.

Ramon stumbled out of the back, bulb in hand, and Alpha Male began counting out change. I was wondering if any of them would react to someone coming in with a sledgehammer in hand and a taste for blood in their mouths, but I quickly silenced the train of thought--I didn't want the Lord to strike me down just in case these really were his peeps.

DSoll declined a bag, collected his change, and scooped the prized bulb up in his hands. We backed away slowly, and when we reached the door, he shouted, "Thanks!"

No one looked up or returned the sentiment.

When we reached my car, we let out a long breath and started to laugh. DSoll mentioned that as he was staring into the red, glowing eyes of that little troll, he felt that he understood the limits of his own mortality.

And then he pulled out the Itty Bitty Book Light from underneath his coat. We laughed and laughed.

filaments, coils, and glass, oh my. g