Earlier this month, I related to you all my descent into the very heart of darkness and despair as my girlfriend and I defied all common sense and journied to Jo-Ann Fabrics in order to acquire various materials for our assorted projects. As anyone who has read the aforementioned article, has been to Jo-Ann, or has read the not so subtext of this introduction can attest; this was an enormous mistake. This, however, is not about why I awake screaming every night. No, this is about our trip to Micheal's.
You see, a couple of weeks ago, we decided to give Jo-Ann's main competition a chance and the nearest location that hadn't been converted to a meth lab was in Buford. We piled into our car and traveled south along 85, Googling the directions to the store and putting them into my GPS because my phone is crappy I refuse to enable location services. We arrived at Exit 4 and, as anyone who knows the area can confirm, we knew our search had begun in earnest since everything worthwhile in Buford is just off the exit. It was only once we got closer to the end of the GPS's trail that we realized that something was terribly wrong.
It turns out that Micheal's, according to my GPS unit, was in the middle of the Mall of Georgia's parking lot. This is not only a terrible place to try to sell anything but suspect oranges and counterfeit consumer goods, but it's also precisely where Micheal's wasn't. Upon confirming that we had, in fact, gotten the address correct and retrying it in the GPS, we decided to simply burn a few hours in the mall because our time is quite abundant.
It was as we were leaving that we saw it, directly across from our favorite exit to the mall. In giant letters on an obnoxiously plain sign, the plainly written word Micheal's. Rolling our eyes (in perfect unison, as is our custom) we drove into the parking lot and entered.
Now, let me tell you that Micheal's is a completely different world from Jo-Ann's. Literally the only thing they didn't have was fabric. Jo-Ann's Fabrics understandably has an advantage there, but we still refuse to ever visit again. Instead, we got X-acto knives, a model AH-64 Apache, a few art pencils and a few other supplies. We were, overall, quite pleased. The only oddity in this store was that for some reason an eighth of the women there were pregnant. So, really, we knew that we'd found our store because at least the patrons of Micheal's can get laid.
Submitted for your approval.
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