Deep thoughts at Walmart
Last night I took Malachi on a little foray to Walmart. Ah Walmart, such a classy place, so full of fine upstanding citizens and quality products, especially late at night. Every time I go there I think, “This is America at it’s best, a fine Utopian of goods.”
Actually last night I thought, “Why are all the crazies here? Why am I here? Why is that man pushing that woman” before I proceeded to yell at him to back up and then spraying him in the face with pepper spray. He thought I was a crazy. In fact, I think his exact words were “Crazy white bitch just sprayed me with pepper spray, call the police.”
Then I thought “This seems like a wholly appropriate way to begin a late night trip Walmart. Fitting actually” and “I hope I don’t get arrested”
I didn’t get arrested, so I continued on my shopping adventure.
As I wandered the aisles I found myself thinking “This is all crap. Cheap crap. Crap crap crap. Why did I come here”
“Dear God, please never let me look like someone who shops at Walmart”
“What stylist gave that woman a haircut? Stylists should have to swear some hair oath to uphold beauty and stay away from mullets on women”
Which lead me to think “I wonder if that lady is trying to go for Butch Lesbian or Minnesota Housewife? Either way it isn’t working. Just say no to red and black checkered flannel…embrace your inner girl”
Feeling a little discouraged and gloomy by my surroundings, I found myself heading toward the toy aisle. I love the toy aisle. I still get happy meals at McDonald’s just for the toys. I thought “Surely something in the toy aisle will cheer me up. The toy aisle is such a happy place”
Once I arrived I thought “Who turned the toy aisle into a mini doll red light district? Are those hooker dolls? What the hell? I should blog about this”
I then took out my cell phone and started pictures of Mini Amsterdam, Walmart style, when an employee came over and asked if I needed any help. “No,” I replied “Just taking pictures of these little slut dolls”
Not knowing how to reply, she walked away.
“What in the hell is that doll wearing? IS she a stripper doll?”
“She has stripper makeup. I mean really,a smokey eye and pale lips with dark liner? Is this what we are teaching girls is fashionable?”
“What the hell? That little girl has way too much makeup on! Don’t copy the slut doll little girl! How old are you supposed to be? What age girls are supposed to play with slut dolls? That girl looks like she is sixteen. Are sixteen year olds supposed to play with slut dolls and glitter their own hair? Run away little girl… RUN AWAY!”
“Sports! Sports are good. Little girls should want to play sports. But… wait. what in the world is that doll wearing? What is that doll doing on the cover? What kind of sport is she in? No sport wears a uniform like that. IS pole dancing a sport. I mean she isnt even a cheerleader!”
“Barbie! barbie will better! WAIT. What happened to you? What are you even wearing? Oh Barbie you fail me! What is happening with your shorts?”
“Barbie! You look a little too Debbie does Dallas in this outfit”
“Oh well played Classy Brown Haired Barbie. Well played! Who cares if you were always thought of as Barbie’s less hot brunette friend. You look sweet, and covered! Well played! I have to get out of here. But first shoes… there must be at least one decent pair of shoes in this store.”
And there you have it, a little inking into a night through my eyes. Pepper spray and police and little slut dolls.
