An Urban Game

"An Urban Game" by Charles Battell Loomis is a captivating narrative that explores the complexities of urban life through the lens of human relationships and social dynamics. Set against the backdrop of a bustling city, the story weaves together themes of ambition, rivalry, and the pursuit of happiness. Loomis's keen observations and engaging prose invite readers to reflect on the challenges and triumphs of individuals navigating the intricacies of contemporary urban existence. With its rich characterization and insightful commentary, the book offers both an entertaining and thought-provoking experience.

• Short story

								
A game that is much played in hot weather by persons who are addicted
to the department-store habit is called “Where can I find it?” It
is played by means of counters, and its duration is often a whole
morning in length. To the looker-on it is much like golf, it seems so
aimless; and it is aimless, but it has the advantages over golf that
it can be played in the city and does not necessitate the services of
a caddy. Over a score take a hand in it from first to last, but only
one is “it,” and she or he displays the only activity necessary to
the game. Only those who are of tough build should undertake to play
it on a hot day, as it is extremely debilitating.

To make the game long and interesting, you should enter the store and
ask for something a little unusual that you may have seen advertised
somewhere. For instance, you go to the glove counter and ask for a
preparation for making soup, called “Soupina.” I am not advertising
anything, as the name is fictitious, but it will serve to illustrate
my meaning. The particular embodiment of haughtiness at the glove
counter will think that you mean some kind of soap, and will frigidly
direct you to the perfumery department, “pillar No. 8.” You go there
simply because it is your move, and you repeat your inquiry, adding
that you think it’s put up in bottles.

“Bottled goods,” is the quick rejoinder, “fourth floor.”

The elevator bears you to the grocery department, and you ask for
“bottled goods.”

“Pillar 20.”

At pillar No. 20 you are made to realize what a poor worm you are,
and you turn to pillar 10, as requested, that being the canned-goods
department. That clerk will undoubtedly misunderstand your order
and will direct you to the basement, “pillar 15.” You hurry down in
the elevator, and come face to face with the mouse-trap counter.
How you go from ladies’ underwear to carpets, to furniture, to the
telegraph-office, to the dental parlors, to the menagerie, to the
restaurant, to the lace goods, to every department known to a modern
city under one roof, you can best find out for yourself, but of one
thing you may be sure--you will never find “Soupina.”

At last, dazed and heated and leg-weary, you find yourself in the
oath-registering room. This is a little room that is in every
well-equipped department-store, and fills a long-felt want, for all
shoppers, at one time or another, wish to register an oath. Whether
you register or not, the game is now over, and you have lost; there
is no possibility of winning. And yet, so fascinating is the sport
that as soon as you have recovered the use of your muscles you will
be eager to play again.
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