My life felt like a rope was tightening around my neck, and every passing day it just got tighter and tighter. Was this depression or just a trip in the wrong direction of fulfillment? Everyone’s journey goes through the up and down roller coasters we are handed. Some people it’s self-inflicting, others, it’s just plain bad luck. We dwell on the bad stuff and overlook the good things. So what am I trying to say here?
Stop living your life as if you have Optic-Rectal-itis. You ask what it that, and is that a new word in the dictionary. It’s when your optic nerve is connected to you rectal nerve and you have a very shitty outlook on life. My medical opinion to cure this problem is to get your head out of your ass.
One way is to drive down to Wally World, yes Wal-Mart. Sit on one of the benches for about two to three hours and watch all the different species walk in and out of the store. They may look human on the outside, some of them anyways. But trust me, there is no way they are human on the inside. Listen, I’m not perfect and by no means I am not trying to judge people. But I can’t help myself when it comes to species watching at Wal-Mart. Between the beggars I’ve encounter in the parking lots. Yes I’ve been approached several times for money for gas or food. Why can’t I just get a normal hooker looking to make an honest buck? Listen I’m willing to pay up to seven dollars if she has all her teeth, now that I think about it, if she doesn’t have any teeth at all; never mind, too much of a visual.
The best part is what you see inside that makes me forget about all the crap I have circulating in my head before I showed up. First encounter, I’m sitting inside the subway franchise that has teamed up with Wal-Mart. I’m staring at this girl across from me at the next table. Her hair is spiked in a rainbow of colors, sticking out in every direction. She has a giant wooden ring hanging down from her nose that actually hangs over her lips. She had many piercings thought out her face; eyelids, tongue, lips, nose. She has quite a few on her upper ears, along with machine nuts implanted and stretching her earlobes too three times their normal size. I wouldn’t want to be around her during a thunder storm. She is wearing a spaghetti top tee to except her anorectic eighty to eighty five pound physique, exposing her body paint that is in an array of colors covering her shoulders; leading all the way down to her wrist. I’m sure there is a time table story behind each and every tattoo. Not wanting to see but guessing her entire body matches what is exposed to the eye. So finally she looks over at me and says,
“Why are you staring at me?”
I was caught by surprise and apologized,
“I’m sorry but when I was in college, my buddies and I got drunk one night in the woods. I caught a peacock and made love to it. I thought you might be my offspring.”
That’s a true story based on fiction.
As I ventured out into the store after nurturing my body with my five dollar foot long sub; you have that jingle, that song in your head right now don’t you, me too?
(Stop playing in my head I’m trying to write here, and you want to keep reading don’t you, to find out if I could find more of my offspring in the main population of the store, that’s not funny so stop laughing?)
So I encounter my next visitor from another planet. She is a three hundred and a plenty pound dark skinned, we’ll call her African American hottie. Those beautiful tree trunks that supported the upper girth balanced and controlled every move spilled out of the bottom of those spandex shorts. That just made me bubble over with love and affection. Can I get the nerve up to not only talk to her, but to get her phone number? This double e, f y, z braless bolder holder left nothing to the imagination in her skin tight tank top. At this point I’m reevaluating my preferences, am I an ass man or a breast man? She has to be the eighth wonder of the world and ninth and tenth. Some people would look at her as just another cupcake. I my friend look at her as the entire bakery and maybe the parking lot in front, with the building across the street, you get my drift. As she bent over to grab a couple of packages of double crème filled chocolate Oreo cookies, the entire isle came to a close. I felt like I was in Home Depot and they blocked off the one isle I wanted to go down to get a pallet of the top shelf. What I thought was her smile for a brief moment turned out to be a bunch of dimples popping through the back of her spandex shorts. How disappointing was that; my bad. Another carriage came rolling up with a young petite two hundred and fifty pound younger and smaller version of momma bear. Mini-me is what I labels this specimen. And the carriage was over flowing with offspring. I guess I’m not a very good closer when it comes to the opposite sex. Here I was thinking virgin; I only missed by five or six kids. So I moved on to bigger and better things. Well it’s going to be tough to fine bigger, maybe just better.
(Goodbye my double crème filled chocolate Oreo cookie sex goddess. Maybe we’ll meet again in bonbon heaven my lost love.)
So now we need to check out the one and only true reason I come to Wal-Mart in the first place, trust me this was a well-planned road trip to venture down here. As I walk to the back of the store I am interrupted by a fellow shopper,
“Greetings from planet earth whack job.”
As he approached me and asked,
“Can you tell me where the fans are, I’ve been walking around for a while and can’t find them?”
Why is it when I go into stores, everyone thinks I work there, it doesn’t matter what I’m wearing or who I’m with, does this just happens to me? So I figure it’s time to have some fun.
“Find them yourself asshole.”
“Did you just call me an asshole?”
“Well, you’re hearing seems to be fine ass wipe.”
He gives me this really nasty look and storms away from me, I too continue on my journey. Four isles later I once again encounter, how can I say this, this lost hunter of fans species piece of shit once more, only this time he brings with him; which is very rear to find when you are looking for something, a medallion filled blue vested employee of the third kind. Not just any employee, Oh my god it’s the manager.
“I didn’t like the way he talked to me and I want him fired,”
The alien barked out in uncontrollable excitement.
At that point I thought for sure the manager next to him would raise his price gun he had in his right hand and mark me down, instead he says to the species standing next to him.
“I’m sorry sir but he doesn’t work for Wal-Mart.”
I felt it was time for my wisdom to be instilled once more, so he could carry it back to the planet were he came from.
“Remember when I said you were an asshole a little while ago, well now you’re a bigger asshole and so is your new found friend you have with you?”
I walked away as I parted the great seas in between them, leaving both with there with mouths open.
I finally got to the isle to retrieve my purchase. A common encounter had developed in front of my eyes, all out, the shelf was empty. Got to love Wal-Mart. Now I can walk back into the world knowing my life really isn’t that bad after all, it’s nice to take that rope off my neck for now. Till next time my few followers. I bid you love and peace.