Yesterday, Thunder had to return something in Chapel Hill, so I accompanied him so that we might enjoy a snack in "The Thrill". While I have been to Chapel Hill many times, I have never had the pleasure of entering any of the evil "propoganda" stores masquerading as merchants of team pride. Well, Thunder was returning a "propoganda" sweatshirt so rather than wait in the cold, I decided to follow him in.

It's almost inconceivable how immediate the feeling of displacement is when you walk into one of those places. You are surrounded by no more than two distinct colors, the greys mixing with the whites and the blue ... oh my goodness the blue. Forget all of the arguments about the sky being Carolina Blue, because that horrific color cannot hold a candle to the sky on a cloudless summer day.

On top of the suffocating atmosphere I couldn't shake the feeling that I would be discovered. I was wearing my usual t-shirt and jeans, but the way I felt, you'd think I walked in there donning the Mr. Wuf outfit, with a huge Wolfpack flag in my hand. There's just something about being in the enemy's territory that makes you feel like you don't blend in, even though the people in there probably couldn't tell me from Dante Calabria.

I've never been so relieved to get out of a store as I was leaving that place (there were actually two stores, but let's let the story move along now), and while the experience was, at least, interesting I don't mean to go back in one for a long long while. You know, for my own safety.