Last weekend, I made a fatal mistake. I uttered, out loud, the words “I’m going to town”. Now, let me explain something. When you live in the country (as I have found myself), you must frequently “go to town” to pick up groceries, pharmaceuticals, Dolce Vita shoes… you know, the necessities.
Unfortunately on this particular occasion, my husband, in a rare respite from ‘husband acquired deafness’ (aka HAD), heard my statement and responded: “Oh good, can you pick something up for me?” (ugh), “At Walmart” (double ugh), “In the sporting goods section”(ok, that’s just plain cruel!).
But, being a good wife (hold snickers, please) I acquiesced with the minimal amount of spousal complaining.
So, a few hours later, there I was roaming around and around and around noted store, in designated section, trying desperately to locate said item. And then it occurred to me, Walmart did not intend for me to find this item – and I have proof! But in order to prove my theory I must digress to earlier that afternoon.
An hour before my fated trip to Walmart, I was breezing through a local Department Store. Not looking for anything in particular, (like that really mattered), when all of a sudden, like a heat projecting beacon, there they were! The pink suede ballet flats I didn’t know I needed, had no idea I wanted, but clearly, could not live another day without.
So here is the thing, if Walmart really wanted for people like me – the outdoorsy challenged – to find things in the section featuring those required, rugged accoutrements, they would strategically place in amongst the sleeping bags, flashlights, guns, and camo wear something like, I don’t know, pink suede shoes, bling encrusted earrings, fragrant leather handbags, or soft as a kitten sweaters. I’m just sayin’.
Anyway, the mere thought of it made me smile; right there in front of the kerosene lanterns… so there you have it.