It isn’t often that one is able to find a great deal of humor while out running errands in a decent sized city this close to Christmas. Face it. Hell, sometimes one can find NO humor out there. You might not have noticed, but there’s a pantsload of bat-shit crazy assed folks out there trying to get their rapidly time-diminishing errands and crap done. This isn’t the friendliest of cities in a normal time of year, let alone when everyone has their holiday blinders on. We had to go out, though, for some necessary errands and lunch which would put us smack dab in the middle of all that crazy. This does NOT often bode well for our states of mind nor our tempers. It can be double exacerbating for my wife due to certain factors. Regardless…it’s over the puddles and through streets to holiday stores we go.
The beginning of our trip saw us brave the land of the bullseye for an optical appointment for each of us. Yeah you heard me. We know how to enjoy some holiday vacation days!!! Jealous aren’t ya? Once those were done it was off for a gourmet luncheon at wait for it….Jason’s Deli!!! Boohyah you culinary castaways!!! All joking aside the Rachel is a good sandwich. It’s like a pastrami and turkey Reuben but with coleslaw on toasted rye. It was then that we needed to head to Satan’s den….anyone….anyone….yes, you are correct. Wal-Mart.
So off we drive, not too far mind you, to the mall across the interstate that has the closest Wal-Mart. We follow the path I have driven countless times and park. I pull off the road and into the parking runs that cover the concrete and asphalt lot in front of these stores and find, miraculously, an open spot not too far from the entrance. A cheer by us at our parking success erupts as we make our way out of the vehicle. I lock it and take a step. Then I take a second and third step away from our chariot and towards the store. Suddenly it hits me and I stop. I turn and look at my wife.
“Uh, honey” I say in a somewhat confused voice. “Did we need to come to PetsMart?”
She looked at me, and I at her.
Blink blink was what she did without a sound.
Blink blink was my silent response.
“Uhm, no” she finally replied.
We abruptly return to the vehicle where we both start laughing hysterically at the fact that without even thinking about it we naturally drove to the mall where the Wal-Mart we needed to go was located. Habit, however, led us to where we spend so much time and hard earned dollars. It’s also the place I say I go to pay my second mortgage.
“No one…else,” I stammer and spit between fits of laughter, “would even…begin…to understand…why this is……just so FUCKING FUNNY!!!!!”
The laughter finally subsides, and we make our across the lot and road to the Wal-Mart I had to PASS to get to this PetsMart. We work our way through the traffic and into the parking maze over there. We find our spot and proceed to get out. Again. I lock it. Again. I take a step. Then a second and third step away from our chariot and towards the store. Again. Suddenly my wife stops by the car to our left and looks at me.
What now? I think to myself.
“I believe Baton Rouge is experiencing a tribble invasion,” she said.
I stopped and I looked where she was pointing and saw it. There, almost underneath the bumper of the truck to our left, it was. Such the perfect specimen that even Harcourt Fenton Mudd himself would have been proud.
Thus began round two of the laughter that had others wondering what the fuck was wrong with us. We found holiday humor. That’s what!
So to this I tell you go forth into the madness. Go find the magic in the mayhem.