I had an interesting experience a couple of weeks ago.
I decided to go somewhere other than Wallyworld to buy a blouse. I know... I know ... what was I thinkin’?
I sometimes forget that there is life outside the black and white smiley-faced facade that is Wal-Mart. Its so easy to get comfy there, and you know you’re too comfy when you’re calling all the employees by their first name and you don’t have to read their name tags. I’m in there so often I’m sure they think it’s me rattin’ them out to the manager when they sneak a smoke break.
I ventured forth to a strip mall where I would have my tryst with another clothing outlet. I walked in, caught a glimpse of myself in the mirror and realized I was not looking up to par. My clothes were clean, my hair was freshly washed and blowdried, and I did have some makeup on. Well, OK, it was just cover stick, but it did cover up the dark circles under my eyes and the brown age spots on my cheeks. I could barely get the time of day from any of the gals who worked there, and the manager-on-duty eyeballed me at the checkout counter like I was gonna write a bad check.
It just so happened that I had to return a couple of the items I’d picked up, namely a dress with a little jacket that went with it. I haven’t worn a dress in almost 20 years, and one look in the mirror with it on told me why. I looked like Ethel on “I Love Lucy.” Like, when Lucy puts her up to something and she comes out looking the worse of the two? That was me in a dress. I laughed so hard at myself that Hubs and Sunnybuns came screaming down the hall to get a look, but I locked myself in the closet and refused to let them see me. It would have been like a crime scene they’d never get out of their minds. I don’t try clothes on at the store, just can’t do it. Bad enough I’ve got a full length mirror at home, don’t need a danged three-way giving me an even bigger glimpse of that buggy in the back! When someone hollers “shake it, don’t break it, took your mama nine months to make it,” I know they’re hollerin’ at me.
So, a couple of days later, I go back to the other store and this time I’ve got full makeup on, a tiny bit of bling, some lip gloss over my lined and pursed lips, and a small pulse of my coveted favorite fragrance spritzed on to make me smell fresh and frosty.
This time honey, the gals chatted me up like I was some long lost cousin from Ludowici.
One gal pulled out pictures of her kids, the other gal talked endlessly about how women treat their kids in the store, and the manager smiled and waved off my photo ID.
I could’ve walked out of there with toilet paper on my shoe and they’d have fought each other to be the one to take it off!
As fate would have it, I had to make a run to WM. I was having Hub’s aunt and uncle to dinner and needed a couple of plates that didn’t read “Dixie” down the side. Those I can just toss in the fire when I’m done...
So, I’m standing in line at everyone’s favorite sooner or later place (I only know one person who refuses to set foot in there, and he announces that gladly) with a few extra plates and bowls and the checker is just as nice as pie, and suddenly there are two more checkers helping her. The young high school fella looks at me and says, “When was the last time you had three people helping you at Wal-Mart?” and I replied, almost flabbergasted, “Never.”
Yep folks, I had three Wal-Mart employees helping me at one time. Wrapping up my dishes and putting them in the bags, loading them into my cart.
I looked around and I could see that even though it was sort of a slow time, this was surely an event that I needed a news crew for. Normally I am standing in line for about twenty minutes, waiting, hoping, praying, for another line to open up and it never does. So this, my friends, was a day unlike any other.
Getting treated like Aunt Flo at the girlie shop, and having three attendants wait on me hand and foot at WM? Oh yeah. Mama had it goin’ on.
I was feeling pretty good by the time I got home. Feelin’ all special, and purty, and famous ... until I heard Sunnybuns holler at me from down the hall, “Ma! I need some toilet paper!”
I rolled my eyes as I felt myself getting sucked back in to reality.
“Hang on!” I hollered back, “I gotta pry it off my shoe!”