by Rob Perez

Size 64

First, I don’t know enough about the sizes of rubber bands to order them on Amazon. Then Target failed me. I mean, they had a lot of rubber bands. Just not the right rubber bands. I had to actually see the things. Which meant doing something I haven’t done in twenty-five years. I went into Office Depot.

Most things change in twenty-five years. Office Depot does not appear to be one of them.

I walked through the front door and somehow found myself back in the ‘80s.

The store was enormous and completely empty except for two employees — a cashier who appeared to be pushing eighty and a young woman in the print department who looked like she might be sixteen. Life-size cardboard cutouts revealed the celebrity spokesperson for the joint: Shaq. Over the speakers, of course, was Steve Winwood. I wish I made that up. Alas, I’m not that creative.

I took to the aisles like an archaeologist in Jurassic Park, brushing the dust off artifacts of a long-lost civilization. I was impressed and curious. Was it really all still… the same?

First came the furniture. About a third of the store is devoted to office chairs, office desks and office tables. Some of the chairs appeared to be broken, which gave the whole section the feeling of a workplace battlefield.

Did you know a folding chair costs $87?

Next came the filing systems. There’s something very right about looking at filing systems while listening to Rick Astley. I guess we used to file things. I had forgotten this. There were shelves for filing. Cabinets for filing. Entire strategies devoted to filing.

And folders. So many folders. Hanging folders. Fastener folders. Reinforced folders. Letter hanging folders. Man, they had folders.

There were also binders. I can’t look at a binder without thinking of Mitt Romney and remembering a time when mentioning a binder was a political faux pas.

The music was Mr. Mister by the time I got to the wall of planners. Apparently people in the ‘80s really liked to see things at a glance.

Then I got to the aisle of technology. Telephones. Fax machines. I guess technically you could still send a fax, but is there really anyone out there to receive it?

It hit me. These aren’t antiques. They’re new antiques.

Aisles of notebooks. Phil Collins. Ecosystems of glue. Starship. Arrays of Post-It Notes. REO Speedwagon. Oodles of legal pads. Men Without Hats. End caps of graph paper. Falco.

Just when I was starting to wonder how this place was still in business, I wandered into Ink and Toner.

Man, they had ink and toner. If I had a printer, they had ink and toner. And make all the jokes you want about ink and toner. I certainly do. But one thing about ink and toner you can’t deny — it ain’t cheap. No sir. In fact, Minnesotans would call it spendy.

I was in a world where Shaquille O’Neal wants me to buy ink and toner and the music has somehow returned to Steve Winwood.

A real percentage of the time I think ink and toner costs more than the printer.

Look, I’m no expert, but isn’t ink and toner just, um, water with color? I’m pretty sure water isn’t that expensive. Maybe color costs a pretty penny. I dunno.

Either way, I now think this is how they keep the lights on around here. Because they’re not selling enough staplers to get ‘er done.

It took me a while, but I think I finally figured out what was going on here. There’s one thing they don’t sell. Computers. And if you don’t sell computers, suddenly filing systems, day planners, fax machines, and staplers make sense. Perfect sense. And frankly, I’m glad someone still sells these things — because they had exactly the rubber bands I was looking for. Size 64.