As a child of the 90s, I can personally verify that at one time, they were THE SINGLE COOLEST THING EVER. That is a fact.
Slap bracelets were, as we’d say in the 90s:
“off the chain”
“all that and a bag of chips, yo.”
And no diggety.
Once, when I was about 8, I went to a yard sale and tried on a slap bracelet. (Fact: you can’t touch a slap bracelet without putting it on. To this day, if there is a slap bracelet in my presence, it is going on my wrist. That’s just how I was raised.)
So 8-year-old me tried on a slap bracelet, left it on for a minute to check out the koosh balls (or something), and then accidentally left the yard sale with the bracelet still on my wrist, having not paid for it. About half an hour later, I looked upon my wrist in HORROR.
I had accidentally STOLEN it.
I was horrified. I burst into uncontrollable tears, wailing and sobbing with regret at what I had (accidentally) done.
I made my mom drive all the way back to that yard sale so I could return the contraband and restore my place in the world as a good and noble 8-year-old citizen.
For all my faults and indiscretions, there is still no part of me that wants to steal things. Except…
I spied it on a recent shopping trip to Ross, and it had no tag to indicate price. But I thought I might be in love with it. You know how sometimes you see things while shopping and you THINK you might be madly in love with them? Either that or you hate them, but you’re not quite sure yet? That’s how I felt.
I thought it might be perfect (and/or terrible) in my office…
…having given up on the idea of Turkish Kilim rugs after Andy suggested that a pile of vomit on the floor would look better than a kilim rug. (Do you agree? Disagree?)
So I asked the cashier, who seemed bewildered. She called the manager to the front, who was equally confounded by this great mystery. Clearly no one could decide how much to charge me for this rug.
In my head, I thought: “Self, you know what you should do? You should make some crazy lowball offer to this manager lady, and maybe she’ll accept it. Some lowball offer like THIRTY dollars.”
I chuckled silently at my cleverness and the silly idea of walking out of Ross with that rug for $30. “Self, you are so silly,” I told myself.
Finally the manager came back, shrugged and said, “Thirty-five?”
So I threw my money at the cashier and run-skipped with the giant rolled-up rug out the store and through the parking lot before they could realize I HAD STOLEN it, change their minds and apprehend me.
Thirty-five dollars for a 5×8 rug? COME ON. Come on. AmIRight?
Lock me up. I paid the asking price, but I stole this rug.
Should I keep it or return it? Are you hiding your slap bracelets from me right now? Have you ever stolen a 1990s fad jewelry item from a yard sale? Do the 90s make you wanna git jiggy wit it? What do you think of the rug?