Kohl’s. That’s what did it.

Movie day in Jewish Wisconsin. This is terribly exciting for so many reasons. First, it’s a movie. I don’t care if it’s that piece of crap Brown v. Board of Education with Uncle Phil from The Fresh Prince of Bel-Air that I’ve had to watch twice or From Jesus to Christ which, dude! I own!, I freaking love movies in class. Second, the class is full of auditors, who are always fun to watch during a movie. Half of them fall asleep, and half talk throughout the entire thing. It’s hilarious. Third, it was, quite possibly, the best documentary ever. My music professor made an appearance, which made me laugh, there was much grumbling by old people, Folksy Wisconsin was front and center- I’m thinking of buying the DVD.

The second half was kind of a downer, because it talked about how all the Jews left these little villages and there is no one for their kids to marry and for heaven’s sake they have to marry Christians OH MY GOD, and so everybody is packing up and leaving. One guy sold his family business because he really enjoyed retirement in Florida. The family business that HIS MOTHER LOVED. She was talking about how much her husband (the Selfish Bastard’s father) loved the store and every piece of clothing, and all the people and she was devastated. Her heart was literally breaking. And her selfish ass of a son sold it to go golf in Boca. Selfish ass.

So that made me sad.

Finally, one old guy was standing on the street talking about how there used to be four Jewish clothing stores along this road and now there are none! What happened?

Katie turns to me and goes, “Kohl’s. That’s what happened.”

And she’s right. Because I would sell my father’s store that my mother loves if we got a Kohl’s in Podunk Wisconsin. Stop crying, Mother, I’ve got Kohl’s Cash that expires on Wednesday.

My devotion of the cult of low-cost clothing in southeastern Wisconsin is so great that I went shopping yesterday. In my sister’s bedroom. She decided that she didn’t want one of the sweaters that she bought last week, and was going to return it. Well, dammit, I wanted it. So I wrote her a check and I now have an adorable flyaway cardigan.

What’s worse? I have to go back today to return a blouse. It could get dangerous.

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