So what had happened was… I parked at the Memphis Walmart entrance and the doors were locked for the night on the side I parked on so I walked to the other door…a sure enough disco inferno storm blew in knocking out the power-when the emergency lights came on I was face to face with a night stocker and I was white knuckle clutching a display of windshield wiper fluid, because we all know how useful that is at a time like this!
Up until that point I had been browsing in the back of the store lugging around a hamper full of items, enjoying my time alone. Despite the fact that there were only about three people in the store with me I suddenly had a vision that I was in N.O. being trampled by looters who were running out of the store with produce-don’t ask me why it wasn’t flat screens-my panic attack involved pineapples specifically…because panic attacks are all logical and stuff I assumed that by the time I reached the generator powered self check out there would be broken glass and the smell of piña colada.
I suddenly regretted my aloneness, and started dating the first man I saw-I was sure I was not commiting adultery because back in the automotive section while the lights were off I thought a lot about my life and I became a polygamist and in my cool, calm collected state I was pretty sure there were probably no survivors outside of the few of us inside of Wal-mart-so I was also a widow. My betrothed took my hamper and placed it in his buggy without me asking proving that even in such dire circumstances I know how to pick em’ . He looked fit and able to fight off a pineapple mauling and he had deodorant in his buggy-what more could you ask for-maybe it was Memphis, maybe it was southern summer nights, maybe it was you maybe it was me but it sure felt right! Unfortunately , I have trust issues so we broke up right as we got to the checkout, I took the hamper told him it was me not him and headed to the self ck out.
I was pleasantly surprised at the lack of broken glass and pineapple juice, I guess all the people around me in pajamas didn’t like Piña Colada’s or getting caught in the rain, that they weren’t into health food and did I mention I had on yoga pants???
I managed to make it through the ck out and reach the foyer-lucky for me by this time the looters had taken all their hostages and gone. Unfortunately, my ex had gotten the buggy in the divorce and the only buggy left in the foyer didn’t have the blue plastic thing covering the handle and was now nothing more than a lightning rod. I tried explaining to my fellow refugees that my car was all the way across the parking lot, hoping they would offer me a ride…I told myself they couldn’t hear me over the crashes of thunder and pops of lightning because they kept sending their husbands to pull the car up to the door for them and getting in without a glance back-but I knew in my heart they didn’t offer me a ride because they were prejudice against polygamist. I had endured much since my conversion and I wasn’t turning back now. I attempted to flag down the security guard but the force was strong in this one he looked at me with longing eyes, cheeseburger in hand, lights flashing, he knew what he had to do, my charms were no match to his sense of duty so he continued circling the parking lot, stopping for no one. I waited, I prayed, I tried bribing the greeter in the scooter, a manager and a cashier to unlock the doors nearer my car, but by their response I gathered that it is an actual threat to national security to do so and just asking gets you on the terrorist watch list and the no fly list-so NSA if your reading this I’d just become a polygamist, went through a breakup, was possibly widowed, was trying to survive a pineapple looting and was just anxious to get home with my super slim hamper that would fit between my shower and toilet, my as seen on TV round, hanging shoe rack and weight watcher scale because we all know that my ex that took my buggy probably left me because my BMI wasn’t good enough for him.
I am happy to report that the parking lot was mostly deserted except for the flicker of the security guards lights as I ran carrying my hamper repeatedly screaming ”Jesus save me from a bacon like death”.
In more happy news my husband was alive and forgave me for my moment of weakness in Wal-mart, my hamper fits in the narrow space and my shoes are in their shoe go round!!!
Share this post with the world in celebration that all the pineapples are safe!
Thanks for Dreaming and Scheming and Panic Attacking with me,