There’s a Wieboldt’s not far away so yesterday I ducked my head in. The store sells dress shirts for $6. They sell a line of denim jackets that have Love and Peace already written across the backs of them. One of the cashiers, a teenage boy, wore a Gucci sweatshirt and had a sketchy mustache. He was smoking, and when a customer stepped forward to pay, he laid the cigarette on the counter, with the lit end hanging over the edge. When it fell to the floor, he sighed and stepped on it. Half the shelves in the store were empty, not because it’s a popular place but because no one restocked them.
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