Okay JJ, I think the story in your book about the orange throw rug HEXED me.

Yesterday I ran out of detergent in the midst of washing everything I ever owned. I was wearing no makeup. And since I never dress up for laundry anyway, I had on some ugly, wrinkled, FATTENING, Bright yellow shorts and a matching tee shirt that I retrieved from a pile on its way to the trashcan.
Because I go to Walmart all the time looking half way decent and never see anybody I know, I figured I could rush in for detergent without being recognized.

In case I got hungry before getting to the detergent aisle, I ran through the bakery to grab a muffin. Thank heaven I recognized my Miss Model, Glamourpuss neighbor before she saw me---I hope. She looked terrific. She has a New hairdo and she's a size 4 (FOUR) MAX! Maybe size TWO.

Risking starvation, I rushed right past the muffins pretending I didn't see her. That woman was probably just lurking there waiting for some unsuspecting fat, wrinkled, yellow slug like me to come along. I bet she never ate a muffin in her whole life.

I somehow escaped under the radar down the detergent aisle praying she hadn't recognized me. And if it ever came up, I could swear it was my older fatter sister or something. (Okay, I don't have an older fatter sister, but that's just a minor detail)

Well, I got the detergent and ran by the fridge for a case of beer. (Hey, I was on the verge of starvation and had to have some kind of nutrition) Anyway, still barely under the radar, I made my way to the check out stand. Only one person ahead of me and the glamourpuss neighbor nowhere in sight. I was just about home free.

I plopped the case of beer and on the counter and was unloading the detergent when I heard someone protesting, "Oh no, that's not mine. Oh no, that's not MY Beer."
Seems the checkout girl was trying to check my beer out to someone else. And when the woman ahead of me turned around to point out the real beer guzzler--fat wrinkled yellow me--I recognized her immediately. It was this really great Christian lady from my Church (Baptist). She always dresses in these barely there colors and looks kind of faded, but she's real nice and very Baptist. I tried to sort of shrink up, but of course she recognized me. Every fat, wrinkled, Bright yellow inch of me.
Being a really good person, she didn't tell me I was I looked like crap or was going to hell for drinking beer. In fact, she was real nice and very friendly.
So while I tried to shrink and the church lady tried not to go into the alcoholic's prayer, the checkout girl from hell asked asked me TWICE-REAL LOUD for my DATE OF BIRTH. She couldn't hear so I practically had to shout it. TWICE!

So in one Walmart trip I wound up dodging my glamourous neighbor, being nailed by the Baptists for buying beer, and shouting my birthdate to the whole Walmart.

Talk about a crappy shopping experience.
smile

[ July 24, 2005, 12:29 PM: Message edited by: smilinize ]