Ok, ok... No flossing here. I actually was one of those people today who ventures into public looking like I dress myself out of a garbage can. I had my ripped up pajamas on that I have been rocking for 3 days now, no bra and no makeup. I was looking like a hella hot mess. Anyway, that's not the point of this story.
My Aunt Toni (now I'm not sure if she wants her name on this so we will call her Aunt Schlomi) So Aunt Schlomi drove me since I can't drive for another 2 months because of my stupid ass foot. She just got a new SUV and decides to park in the next town over to insure she won't get a scratch on her new baby. When she asked me if I wanted to get dropped off at the door my eye caught a coveted front row spot and I, like a jackass, assumed she was going to take it, which led me to turning down the offer thinking, "well what the hell, it's only a few more steps." WRONG! 5 Hours later I finally crutch my sweaty ass into the freezing cold store which immediately made me think "damn I should have worn a bra." Now normally I would go about my business in the store on my crutches but this time being as that I had already crutched a New York Marathon I opted for the first time for one of those motorized carts. Let me just tell you, It's not as easy as it looks. Don't let old people fool you, they are smarter and more agile than you think. Operating one of these carts takes a lot of hand-eye coordination, which is a department I am lacking in, ask any of my friends. I have seen many 90 year old people hauling ass around corners with precision accuracy. I seriously knocked down like every display I could get my cart near. I have a new found respect for people driving those carts. (hurt and old people only though, not the overweight people that use them. They are not there so you can be lazy, now get up and walk damn it.) This still isn't the point of this story.
So I'm looking like a skankbag and I'm pissed off because I only went there for a few items and my aunt decides she is going to buy the whole friggin store. Everything is getting loaded into my cart, making it that much more difficult for me to maneuver. I stopped right in the middle of an aisle and told her to come back to me when she was done because I was knocking into things and running children over with this stupid ass cart. So I'm sitting there parked while she shops and some guy approached me and was trying to kick game. I'm shocked because I dwouldn't have wanted to talk to me looking the way I was looking. I looked like a bag lady, have some self respect mister, Geez! He goes on to tell me that his name is Jungle Jim (Jungle Jim really?) and asks me what my favorite brand is and now I'm really confused. (brand? brand of what?) Then the creepy man, er. Jungle Jim points next to me and it is only then that I knew what he was referring to...condoms... what? CONDOMS??!!!! I didn't realize it but I parked right next to the condom/lube/shit I never even knew existed aisle. So he repeats himself, "What is your favorite brand?" I could feel my face getting red and not from embarrassment but from being pissed off. The nerve of that guy. Did he really think I came to Wal-Mart to get harassed? Not today I didn't. I came to get my bargain on just like everyone else and get the hell out of there. Most of the time I'm skulking about trying not to get spotted, especially today, pajama day!!
I think the point of this whole story is A) don't go in public dressed like a skank B) always, always, ALWAYS wear a bra and C) aviod the prophylactic aisle at all costs. Screw that, avoid Wal-Mart at all costs. Ladies, aviod men at all costs or at least men who go by the name Jungle Jim.
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