Mall Rats - The Longest Day of Vacation (Part 4: The Sweet Smell of Free Shirts)

I unsuccessfully scanned the field for piles of shirts or wild throngs of people snatching 100% cotton manna from the sky. Nothing.  So I was forced to confront the next pack mule burdened with a pile of schwag.

"It's that way. You see the stage?"

I did.

"There's another stage just past that."

We continued.

Past the first stage.

No shirts.

We continued.

To the Washington Monument.

No Shirts.

We continued hugging the curved wall retain the patch of grass surrounding the monument.

"Hey, you. Hey, hey. Where did you get the shirts? Evan, stay there. Hey, you with the shirts. Yeah, you. Where did you get the shirts?"

By the benefit of my periscopic height I was aware of our destination before Evan and Colette. The shirt stage was our El Dorado, our Fountain of Youth, and the crew would not mutiny. I picked Evan up and placed him in the crow's nest. "Shirts Ho!" Let the pillaging begin. And of course by pillaging I mean I got shirts for everyone and politely asked for a couple of extras so we could give them out as gifts.

Only six hours remained until the fireworks, and we still had plenty to do. We didn't bring a bag for fear of security hassles. So now laden with five shirts and bag from the Lincoln Memorial gift closet just big enough to hold a couple of patches I was ready to head off to the Holocaust Museum.

Oddly enough, nobody asked me where I got the shirts. Go figure.