10/02/2025
It's Saturday afternoon at Kmart, 1981. The place smells like fresh popcorn, rubber flip-flops, and a faint cloud of cigarette smoke drifting through the aisles.
Then it happens-the loudspeaker pops to life:
"Attention Kmart shoppers! We have a Blue Light Special in Aisle 7!"
Instant pandemonium. Shopping carts left spinning in the middle of the floor. Kids clinging to the sides like it's a carnival ride. Grandma hikes up her polyester slacks and barrels forward, her orthopedic shoes squeaking with every determined step.
And there it is—the holy grail of bargains-blue light flashing atop a metal pole, glowing like the Bat-Signal for deal hunters. A crowd gathers, breathless, eyes wide.
Today's prize? Half-off polyester shirts.
Someone gasps like Elvis himself just walked in.
Two ladies dive into the bin with the desperation of passengers fighting for the last seat on the Titanic.
Mom triumphantly tosses an orange-and-brown number into the cart, grinning like she just won The Price Is Right. She leans in and whispers, "Don't tell your father-I saved $1.49."
Meanwhile, Uncle Don leans against the cart, grape ICEE in hand, shaking his head:
"If they ever run a Blue Light Special on fishing lures, we're never getting out of here."