Roses Discount Store — Local services in Burnsville

Once again I inexplicably find myself standing at the entrance of Rose's Discount Store, a place where the cosmic debris of consumerism has coalesced into a chaotic symphony of oddities. The air smells faintly of nostalgia and desperation, like a forgotten mixtape left in the glove compartment of a '92 Ford Taurus.*

Rose's, oh Rose's, you enigmatic purveyor of the mundane and the absurd. Your flickering fluorescent lights beckon weary souls, promising bargains and surprises. But what awaits us inside? A treasure trove or a fool's errand? Only time will tell.

I step over the threshold, and immediately, my senses are assaulted. The linoleum floor, worn thin by countless footsteps, creaks under my weight. The shelves sag with the weight of their eclectic cargo: plastic dinosaurs, expired cough syrup, and a mismatched collection of socks that seem to have lost their way in the fabric of reality.

The snack aisle is a carnival of contradictions. Here, a bag of flaming hot Cheetos rubs elbows with a dusty box of elderberry tea. And what's this? Pickled okra sharing shelf space with bubblegum-flavored toothpaste? It's as if the universe itself has thrown up its hands and said, "Why not?"

Prices? Ah, the prices. They defy logic, like a drunken game of hopscotch played on a Möbius strip. A plastic kazoo—a relic of forgotten childhoods—sits next to a miniature Eiffel Tower. Both priced at $3.14. Why? Because Rose's knows that life is a cosmic joke, and we're all just trying to find the punchline.

And the soundtrack! Oh, the soundtrack. As I wander the aisles, I half-expect Limp Bizkit to burst forth from the ceiling tiles, belting out "Rollin'." The flickering fluorescent lights would sway in rhythm, and the checkout lady would raise an eyebrow, scanning my items with the precision of a blackjack dealer.

But alas, Limp Bizkit remains silent. Perhaps they're waiting for the cosmic alignment—the moment when the Twinkies align with the batteries, and the plastic forks form a perfect pentagram. Only then will the parking lot stage be set, and Fred Durst himself will emerge, clad in a tattered flannel shirt, ready to rock our souls.

And so, dear Rose's, I salute you. You are not just a store; you are a portal. A place where the mundane and the magical collide, where the banal becomes sublime. As I exit, clutching my scented candles and a broken slinky, I can't help but wonder: Is this chaos or destiny? Perhaps both.

Who among us hasn't appreciated your absurdity, Rose's. May your flickering lights guide us lost souls...

Oh how I wish you were in weaverville NC !!! I absolutely prefer this store over anything and I try to make it out there as much as possible. This store has absolutely everything you need at the best price possible!!! I remember my parents taking me here as a small child and we shopped here for everything. The store is still the same. The staff is still fantastic. You always know where everything is at and you always have plenty of space…. They are in an awesome shopping...

The Christmas decorations were both fun and pretty. I enjoyed looking them over very much. My husband and I love to go to Roses because we have found good prices on pet supplies and groceries. The cat litter we buy is only $2.50 a bag and it has odor control. Also, I get baking soda at only 50¢ a box to put in my cats' litter pans. On top of these savings, my husband got his senior citizen discount. Roses is so handy! I hope it never goes out...