Something happened to me this morning that shook me to my very core and made me question some of my most fundamental beliefs.
I woke up to discover that the second chin I’d been nursing last night had morphed into a fully formed head – and it had brought along one of it’s friends to set up camp on my forehead.
Hot compresses and green tinted make-up were doing little to disguise the face that the face on my chin and the face on my forehead were holding a very loud conversation with one another. It was awkward. And ugly. And New Year’s Eve is this weekend – not to mention the upcoming video blog. I decided immediate action of Shock & Awe proportions had to be taken.
Where could I get zit cream quickly and cost effectively? And while I was at it, I had been meaning to check out that new “multi-tonal” hair dye. And my husband had been muttering something about being out of toilet paper for like three days…
No, it couldn’t be avoided any longer. Desperate times call for desperate measures. I knew I was going to have to break my vow and venture back into…
I pulled into Hell’s Parking Lot at about 8:30am. It was damn near desolate, and as I pulled into the front row parking spot I couldn’t help but allow myself to feel a little bit of hope. Maybe, just maybe, this time would be different.
I quickly admonished myself for being so naive. That kind of optimism is what heartaches are made of.
But inside, I found something that even my hopeful mind could never have conceived. Wal-Mart seemed to be completely void of stupid people. It was breath taking and awe inspiring and… well, I’m not ashamed to admit I shed a little tear in the zit cream aisle.
I could barely contain my joy as I perused the hair color selection, taking the time and attention necessary to determine if my roots had become Medium to Dark Blonde or Light Brown.
And it continued like that, like a glorious utopia of a discount shopping. I didn’t witness a single incident that left me feeling guilty about not adding DHS to my cell phone. I rarely shared a fast lane – and the little old ladies were pulled far enough over for the younger, more agile crowd to whiz by without so much as a cart bump. They even smiled as I flew by, seemingly enchanted by my youth and virility.
My new found euphoria wavered for only a second as I stood in the self-checkout lane and the machine announced that we had a problem, but “Help Was On The Way”. But then, like magic, help really WAS on the way – there, in fact, almost immediately. And she rung up my jumbo pack of diapers before I could whip out my debit card.
I pulled out of the parking lot with a strange mixture of elation and confusion brewing in my mind. Nay, my soul.
Could it be that I have been wrong about Wal-Mart? Is it possible that I have judged too harshly and dismissed to quickly?
Or maybe… just maybe…
White trash sleeps in.