CD: Pearl Jam, "Binaural"

At one point at work last week I was looking for a cardboard box full of paper bags. I never found it. I looked in the storage room, but to no avail. After asking a manager where they were, he said "try the next room, where they keep the stuff for the gift shop." If there is an overflow of stock, as there usually is during the peak summer months, my work is able to use the other store's storage space. To make a short story shorter, I did not know what the box of bags actually looked like, so I had to pry open a few of the packages. After about 10 minutes of searching a cramped little storage room--one you can't walk in and should be able to find things without actually looking--I got frustrated, tore a slit in the top of an unmarked box and stuck my hand in. What was inside shocked me. It sure wasn't paper bags, but soft. And furry. And at the same time, a co-worker unknowingly from behind their sneakers squeaking.

Fur + Squeak
= Alive!

I pulled my hand back and went "AAAAAAHH!"

"What's wrong?" the co-worker asked.
"I thought it was alive! And I got scared! Geez!" I tried to breathe.
She looked at the plain cardboard box, then me. "Oh Kayyy..." and resumed walking.

I wish the gift shop would label their crates of stuffed animals, but I'm in no position to dictate.