National Retail Karen Day

Behold! The dawn, faint glimmers first,
Upon the steel gates—malls accursed,
Where throngs of mortals, eager-eyed,
In slumbered lines at daybreak bide.
For bargains bright their minds are fired,
Their restless wallets long inspired.

At six o’clock, the gate unchains,
And lo! The mightiest Karen reigns—
With coupon clutched, her steely grip,
The aisleway blocked by elbowed hip.
"Step back!" she cries, and plants her stake,
As lesser mortals quail and quake.

A cart in hand, she charges forth,
Her hair a shield, her sneer a sword.
To garments folded, racks aligned,
Her eager claws in haste are signed.
Each price tag checked, each sale beheld,
Till shelves like pillaged fields are felled.

Behold her skirmish with the youth
Who dared dispute a pricing truth!
With righteous gaze and nostrils flared,
This shopper leaves no grievance spared:
"Your website said, I checked last night—
If not, I’ll call corporate, alright?"

An aisle away, a clerk in fright
Meets questions cast like shards of spite:
"Where’s the manager?" she cries aloud,
While underpaid souls slink and cowed.
The seekers watch, the cameras roll,
The deals grow cold, the coffee bowls.

Around her rages, uncontained,
The cart-dragged troops of shoppers pained—
Their laughter edged, their tempers raw,
A battlefield of retail law.
At registers, the columns queue,
Each soul embattled, proud, askew.

At last, our champion checks her prize,
With narrowed stare and widened eyes.
The totals ring, the workers pale,
And proudly Karen heaves her grail—
A cart that groans beneath its weight,
And rolls like thunder through the gate.

So let us sing, in mocking glee,
Of those who brave the mall’s debris,
Of mortals bold, whose dollars fight,
Through trenches marked with sale delight.
For thus it goes, year after year,
When the dreaded Retail Karen’s here.