Every Friday I go to the upper Westside for my therapist. 72nd street; the home of Gray's Papaya and Krispy Kreme. On my way to my psychologist, I buy the recession special, 2.45 for 2 hotdogs and a 16 oz drink. On my way back, I get a 1.25 Hazelnut coffee at Krispy Kreme. One day, I saw this sign, "Try our Hazelnut Coffee." Like a teenager viewing a smoking ad, I rushed in and demanded they sell me a hazelnut coffee, regardless of my age. Then, one day, there was a new attraction, a new icon to mark my Friday visits with: Urban Outfitters. It began as a thing to do while I finished my coffee. Go in, look around, see if anything stands out. It continued with a new pair of pants a week. I mean at 5$ who cares if you only wear them on the way home! So I made it a routine I would go in, go directly to the sales section, flip through the plaid and error'd pants, and pick out a pair that fit. I would pay my 5$ with the pants on and leave the store. Generally I would wear those pants that weekend and that weekend only. But it progressed, from a mild addiction, to a craving. I found myself browsing the non-sale items, the 30$ hats. The 60$ used pants. My god, if it wasn't for my will power, I would be doing a pack of pants a week. But one day, a redeeming day, the day I quit, with the upper hand, changed it all. I walked in, a normal Friday. I went upstairs to the men section. The checkout counter girl smiled at me and said hello. I walked around the entire second floor, trying not to make it to obvious that I had lost the sale section. They reorganized. I was lost in a sea of used, but not so cheap, pants. I turned price tags, looking for the red sticker marking the pants mine with the $5 tag. But alas, nothing. Panicked, I began looking at the walls, when an interesting new addiction caught my eye. 50% off. I looked at the items , ready to walk away with whatever hung on the glistening wall. Dickie's Messenger bags. 20$. 50% off. 10$. I took the red one. I proceeded to the counter. Hi. I would like this, and I believe it is 50% off the marked price. Yeh, wait, this bag is only 10$, so you only have to pay $5. Never in my entire life did I ever think a sales person would tell me I only have to pay 5$. Wait right there I shout. I rush upstairs and pull the black bag off the wall, the green bag off the wall. I begin rushing down the stairs when I see the pants. Plaid. The familiar glowing red price tag lying along side them. I pick them up, I do not need to try them on, I know god is making this happen. I leave the store, sarandonically laughing at the sales clerk. 20$ for 3 bags and a pair of pants. I screwed them.