A bloody nose, courtesy of a trip to Toys R Us

Dear Geoffrey: Beware the Ides of March.

They're killing off Toys R Us.

America's funland is about to land on the growing trash heap of retailers done in by competition from online outlets, as well as superstores such as Walmart and Target.

The 70-year-old toy retailer announced that it will close all 740 of its U.S. stores, leaving 30,000 workers in the unemployment line.

I will always remember Toys R Us for two things: A Cabbage Patch Doll and a bloody nose.

No, I didn't get into a fight over the last prized doll in the store.

Let me explain.

This had to be the early '90's. I had been dispatched to hit the Toys R Us across from Granite Run Mall on my way to work.

Back then I was doing a later shift, usually getting into the office about noon. I actually had time to do something other than write blogs, blast away on Twitter and post on Facebook.

My mission? Acquire the seemingly impossible-to-find Cabbage Patch doll, the only thing my young daughter wanted for Christmas. I had been just about everywhere and come up empty. No one had them.

Then I heard that the Toys R Us at the mall was getting a new shipment.

I managed to get there just in time as a horde descended on the remaining dolls.

It was as I was leaving the store, carefully going over the remaining items on my "wish list," that disaster struck.

As I recall, right in front of the store they used to have a metal rack where shoppers would return their carts after loading their goodies into the car.

I never saw it. But I certainly felt it.

Yep, I walked directly into it - nose first, opening up a nice size gash on the top of my nose. I'm still surprised I didn't black out. I'm a fast walker. And I was not wasting any time getting to my car - right up until the time I hit that metal bar.

I managed to drive the rest of the way down Baltimore Pike with a tissue trying to stop the flow of blood.

I still remember the looks on the faces of the women in Classified as I raced into the office with blood continuing to flow from the gash. I think they all thought I had been shot.

Luckily, managing editor Linda DeMeglio managed to do a little quick first aid, stop the flow, and bandage my nose. Hell, it was probably an improvement.

But it was a happy Christmas for my daughter.

And the reason I will always remember Toys R Us.

See you around, Geoffrey.

You'll be missed

Comments