I wish Wal-Mart would assign their customers a number based on age and gender, and allow shoppers to visit only during their appropriate time slots.
Yesterday I was in the middle of house cleaning – I’ve declared the first Wednesday of every month “House Keeping Day” at the Jones abode. I don’t get dressed, don’t leave the house and certainly don’t put on make-up. What’s the point?
Unfortunately, I was out of vacuum bags and had to make the dreaded trip to Wal-Mart. I put on big sunglasses and my Russian fur hat that looks like the one Omar Sharif wore in Dr. Zhivago. Never mind that the sweat suit I wear for “House Keeping Day” doubles as my pajamas. I was just running in for vacuum bags, for Pete’s sake.
Wouldn’t you know it? I ran into every body I know in this entire three-county region. Some of them didn’t even know who I was – or didn’t care that I looked like a bag lady who found a really spiffy hat in the garbage.
All this reminds me of an e-mail my friend Ruthie sent me months ago. Luckily I saved it because it was so rich. And so true. It outlined by age what a guy does before going to the store. I have taken the liberty of rewriting it to make it “chick appropriate.”
In your 20’s:
You stop what you are doing. Take a shower, blow dry your hair,
brush your teeth, floss, apply full make-up and put on clean clothes. Add a dab of your favorite perfume because you never know, you just might meet some hot guy while standing in the checkout lane. The cute guy at the check out register flirts with you.
In your 30’s:
Stop what you are doing, reapply your make-up over the old, put on clean shorts and shirt. Change shoes. You wash your hands and comb your hair. Check yourself in the mirror. Still got it. Add a shot of your favorite cologne to cover the smell. The cute guy at the cash register looks at you with a sly grin.
In your 40’s:
Stop what you are doing. Put on a sweatshirt that is long enough to cover the fact the top button popped off. Put on different shoes and bunch your hair up in a pony tail. Wash your hands, apply lipstick. Your perfume bottle is almost empty and you don’t want to waste any of it on a trip to Wal-Mart. Check yourself in the mirror making sure there’s nothing caught in your teeth. The spicy check out boy glances your way.
In your 50’s:
Stop what you are doing. Slap on a wig, wipe the dirt off your hands
onto your sweatshirt. Check yourself in the rearview mirror – have you noticed how great you always look while straining to see yourself in the mirror. All that droopy skin just falls back into your hairline. You are invisable to the cute check out guy.
In your 60’s:
Stop what you are doing. Hose the dog poop off your shoes and hunt for your glasses. Oh what the heck, you can borrow a pair from the optical section even though you have to walk around with a price tag hanging between your eyes. The check out guy is patronizing and you set off the theft alarm because you’re still wearing the glasses.
In your 70’s:
Stop what you are doing. Wait to go to Wal-Mart until they have your
prescriptions ready, too.
In your 80’s:
Stop what you are doing. Start again. Then stop again. Now you
remember you needed to go to Wal-Mart. Go to Wal-Mart and wander
around trying to think what the heck it is you are looking for. You suddenly remember you went to school with the old man who greeted you at the front door.