When you shop at Wal-Mart, there are certain things you come to expect: you’re going to be hungrier than you were at any point during the previous week, you’re going to see at least 2.79 people you know, and some amount of unplanned-for chocolate will be bought (and yes, possibly consumed) before you leave the store.
But recently I had a new experience at Wal-Mart. A glorious experience. An experience unlike any other I had ever had in Wal-Mart, where I’m sure by now I’ve spent a little more than 11 years of my life (most of it looking for spices that no longer exist or some form of canned tomatoes).
What was this extraordinary occurrence?
(Imagine a drum roll as I announce . . . )
I had the BEST shopping buggy I’ve ever had while shopping. EVER!
It was like the Buggy From Heaven.
Now you might think this particular buggy might have had a holy grail-type-glowing aura about it, but that’s what made the whole experience so special.
I pulled the buggy out of the buggy holding area that houses all the ordinary buggies. But right away I could tell THIS ONE was different. It was THE ONE.
First, none of the wheels went Ka-clump. Ka-clump as I meandered my way through the store. Second, I was able to make either right turns OR left turns.
There was a smooth precision to the complicated BUGGY MECHANISM. It was like driving the Cadillac of Buggies. And as I made my way around the store, I noticed that having such an incredible piece of machinery that responded to my every touch, my entire mood changed. I was happier. More at ease, relaxed. I found myself whistling to myself, almost like I was one of the Seven Dwarfs. And I was smiling and saying hello to passing strangers. (Ok, I usually say hello to unsuspecting strangers, but this time I MEANT it!).
Yes, my friend, I was cock of the walk. And I knew those around me regarded me with a veiled resentment.
But a sad thing soon happened: my shopping was complete.
I wheeled my bagged groceries out to the car, and with a teary eye I bid adieu to the greatest buggy that’s ever come into my life.
I’m sad to say that since then, my shopping experiences have been . . . lacking. I’ve had a longing for the that beautiful four-wheeled creature that was so good to me, if only for a fraction of my life.
Every time I venture to Wal-Mart now, the trip is underwhelming at best. I look around each time, hoping to see a glow emanating from the Chosen Buggy.
And every time I feel like I’m going to plunge into feelings of having an inadequate buggy. Of leaving the store unsatisfied. But then I just load my inferior buggy up with more chocolate, and that pretty much fixes everything.