There once was a time no one read my blogs. At least, no one subscribed to its every post. There were 300 blog posts (on various sites) before I ever had 15 followers.
And every post was quite silly. And what I talked about really didn’t matter. Who was going to judge me? My roommate, reading the post while sitting on the couch next to me?
Hey followers. Get ready to be enlightened. Tonight’s post is about Wal-Mart and Wendy’s.
Once every month, I make a trip to Wal-Mart. My landlord doesn’t accept personal checks, and short of delivering cash to their door or paying $10 for a certified check at the bank, I visit Wal-Mart’s customer service counter once every month to pick up a big ol’ money order for a 70-cents fee.
And then I walk the aisles and spend the other part of that week’s paycheck. Once, it was buying out Wal-Mart’s frame section for my bedroom. Today, it was a cart of a person vaguely trying to be healthy but getting lost along the way.
1 loaf of bread.
2-box-value-packed Special K.
6 Healthy Choice Steamers.
9 Protein bars.
1 bottle of Ketchup.
5 quarts of green Gatorade.
45 freeze pops.
Family-pack Dial bars to last until next year.
30 hair ties to replace the ones lost under my bed.
While in the feminine section of the Wal-Mart health and beauty section, I witnessed a man deliberate which condoms to buy for far too long. This box? Or this box. This box? Or this box.
So I followed up my Wal-Mart trip like you should every Wal-Mart trip with a trip across the street to Wendy’s.
And got the giggles. See, I was already behind when I pulled up to the drive-thru because I couldn’t come up with the phrase Jr. Bacon Cheeseburger, so my “Just one minute please” was quickly answered with “Do you have any questions?”
Oh, nope. One Jr. Bacon Cheeseburger, please. Meh, two.
And a Diet Coke.
Curve around the building, pulling up too far from the window. Fish for the $10 in my back pocket.
Hold it out.
My change is already extended.
“Oh! You’re so fast!” I say, feeling like I must have moved in slow motion from the menu to the window. But I know I didn’t. There is nobody behind me. And how did she know I was going to pay with a ten?
And I pull forward, and as I do…
The girl at the 2nd window is in a full-body, arching, stretched lean out the window, soda in hand.
And I started cracking up. Maybe the Olympics have us all inspired to move a little faster. Me, through dinner and quicker to my couch.
And upon placing the soda in the cup holder, I turn my head to find the food bag is already through my car window.
Impressive, Wendy’s. I might even revisit you this time next month.
Now decompressing from my classy night with some cheap white wine and the Olympics. Watching men dive and move more in three seconds than I do some days. Twist their bodies as much in three seconds as I do in a fitful night’s sleep. Move with as much grace as when I…
Anyway. Monday. Remember when there were 18 days between blog posts? This is why.