The Pet Store > The Zoo
Do me a favor. Drive your happy ass to the zoo and see how much it costs for parking and admittance. Then, stop at the little café in the front of the park and get yourself a hot dog. Then, stop at the stand around the corner and get your kid some popcorn. Then, walk around for a little while, and go back to the stand and get a drink for you and your kid. Then, buy some feed for the goats. Then, after a long day of walletrape, try to walk by the gift shop, conveniently located near the exit, and try to not end up buying a stuffed animal or one of those little plastic dinosaur heads-on-a-stick that bites down when you squeeze the handle. Your total day’s investment, not counting gas, is probably somewhere around $100. And really, all you did was see animals behind glass – which coincidentally, if you’ve got a 1080p HD television, is practically the same thing. And don’t get me started on 3DTV.
Plus, you go to the zoo and there’s no guarantee that the animals will be awake or around when you’re there. I’ve gone to the zoo twice with my kid and both times, the lions were so asleep that they looked dead. The gorillas were hiding. There’s some exhibit that’s supposed to have some sort of cat in it and no one ever sees it. The giraffes are always far as s**t away. And for the record, my local zoo doesn’t even have bears. But my kid likes to see animals in the flesh, because he still hasn’t learned that reality is just the dream we’re having in the matrix while our bodies are being used to fuel machines waging war on humanity. So things like seeing “real animals” is still important to my kid.
This is why we go to the pet store.
Sure, I’m only letting my kid see dogs, cats, fish and assorted rodents and reptiles. But when my kid asks to see an elephant, I just point to the empty glass case where some cat was adopted out of and say “oh, look, the elephant is probably in the back eating right now, sorry buddy.” It’s no different than the zoo, except that at the pet store, I’m trying to convince my kid that an elephant fits into a 5-foot-by-5-foot glass box. Before he crunches the numbers on the size discrepancy, I just ask my boy what sound an elephant makes and he holds his arm up like a trunk and makes the same sound he makes for a lion, dinosaur or shark and all’s forgiven.