The neon blue and yellow sign flickered, throwing a cold light over the empty parking lot. It was November 11th, and for the first time in years, the automatic glass doors of the Best Buy on 4th Street remained locked.
Arthur sat in his vintage pickup truck, the engine idling with a steady rattle. He hadn’t come for a discounted OLED TV or the latest smartphone. He had come out of habit. Every Tuesday morning for a decade, he visited the "Geek Squad" counter, usually just to ask a question he already knew the answer to, just to hear a human voice. best buy closed veterans day
Arthur looked down at his own jacket—a faded olive drab with a patched unit insignia on the shoulder. He had forgotten. In the rush of the modern world, where every holiday was just a reason for a "Doorbuster Sale," he had expected the temple of consumerism to be open. The neon blue and yellow sign flickered, throwing