We all do it. Zara has a sale. You notice one night when you’re at the mall, picking up a half price calendar weeks after the new year because you’re in January self-deprivation mode. With your sock monkey calendar tucked under your arm  (Indigo/Chapters – whatever Heather’s calling it – charges now for plastic bags, so it was an opportunity to save the environment and 5 cents) you tell yourself not to go into Zara. Weeks later, you can’t get that five dollar rack out of your mind. It taunts you, even as you congratulate yourself, then console yourself. Then you have to go back to the mall to exchange a Christmas gift – figure skates — that don’t fit. Since you never figured out how to deal with the scary sudden braking issues on girl skates you exchange them for hockey skates and try to get the hell out of the mall. Now you’ve left it so long the Bauer super pro $300 skates are down to $100? Fine, that’s great. The beginning of your hockey career coincides with the NHL renaissance. Go Flames Go and all that. We’re not bitter about the billionaire strike. What? They want to sharpen those skates for you? Umm. They want you to come back when?? Can you kill forty minutes in the mall? You casually stop in to Zara, thinking you’ll be safe, since your size must be sold out by now. It’s fate. It’s destiny. It’s… $$$$$ later. Actually, only about $$ later. Definitely worth it.