Walmart-ing

Walmart is a wonderful mecca of deals, steals (sometimes literally) and wonder, but also a hellhole. Going there on a Sunday afternoon is probably the worst decision you could ever make, because come 12pm, it turns into the official local church after-party no matter where you live. Seriously, sometimes I think that if a Walmart threw an I-Hop inside of one of its locations instead of a Subway sandwich franchise, there would literally never need to be anything else open on a Sunday–Joel Osteen would probably invest. Better yet, a church should probably just open a Walmart in the back, because move over, Taco Bell/Pizza Hut/KFC combo, a new mega trio is coming your way and it’s called The Walmart I-Hop Mega Church Center.

Anyway, Walmart. Yes, Walmart–the place once infamously confused as a store that sells walls by Paris Hilton, doesn’t actually sell walls, but they do sell legitimately everything else. This is why when it came time for me to re-organize my sneaker closet, the Walmart website was my first stop because let’s be honest–the safest way to shop at Walmart is by not physically being at Walmart. So how did I end up at Walmart then? Good question. I wanted to save the $7 shipping cost on the shoe cubby I ordered, so I opted for the in-store pickup option. A week later, I strolled through the doors of my local Walmart and wandered through aisles of camouflage hats, camouflage televisions and camouflage children until I finally found the online order center nested neatly by the Subway sandwich franchise. I worked my way around the line at the registers that seemed like it was Black Friday in the middle of September and wondered if I was missing out on something, but instead I just got in line behind several people in the online order area.

The area was small, and for some reason had its own Sunny Delight display tower, just in case you felt the need to hydrate with some sugar-water while waiting to pick up your microwave. There were 4 registers and about 10 employees, but only 2 registers were actually open. After waiting for 5 minutes and realizing the line hadn’t moved at all, I asked a sales associate if people were also in this line for general purchases, not just order pickups–“no, it’s also layaway.” Ah–layaway. Alright, no big deal. I stood there, waiting, eavesdropping on conversations about pregnancies and refrigerators, wondering if I would ever get to pick up my shoe cubby. I took a moment to take in my surroundings–there were still several associates standing behind the counter, but still only 2 stations were open. There were two Walmart employees sitting on a bench in the area, one of them was eating chicken–I am hoping she was on her break. It didn’t smell like chicken at first, but then it did…and as my hunger grew in correlation with my impatience, the smell was more apparent to me and I just wanted to know where I could get that chicken but I couldn’t get out of the line because then the vicious cycle would begin once more and I HAD SOMEWHERE TO BE, DAMMIT. And that place was a diner, because I was hungry.

FINALLY, after several texts from my mother and what seemed like the longest 20 minutes of my life, it was my turn. Once I got up to the register, it was quick and painless, but of course the box for my product was bent and damaged. I just wanted to get out of there, though, before the spell of chicken came over me and forced me to wait in yet another line. Also, I had seen a camouflage Mets hat that was quietly calling my name, so I legit had to bounce before I dropped anymore money there that day.

When I got home, after the diner, I assembled my shoe cubby, noticed one of the metal poles was damaged, took a moment to think of what a hassle it would be to try and return or exchange the item, and decided to just take the chance of it collapsing because somehow that would be more convenient to me than having to go to Walmart again.

I’m Singing In The…Juniors Department of Nordstrom

My family is loud. Each and every member of my family loves attention, loves talking and loves being acknowledged and I love them all for that very reason. Today, me, my aunt and two of her daughters (my cousins) took a little trip to the mall so one of them could find a dress for her grad school graduation…tomorrow. We love last minute opportunities. Anyways, our last stop was Nordstrom. I told my cousin most of the dresses were on the second floor (women’s) but she wanted to go to the third floor (juniors)–I guess that’s an acceptable move when you’re as thing as she is…sigh. So there we are on the third floor. She looked around for dresses but couldn’t seem to find anything that she liked, though I constantly pulled out dressed with absolutely any trace of purple, her favorite color, in them. She didn’t like any of them so she decided to head back to the second floor–A Ditk knows best! (Well, in this case, she’s A Ditk too, but we won’t get into that…I was just referring to myself…as in I know best.) As she headed down the escalator, “Pocket Full of Sunshine” came on over the in store sound system. My aunt started dancing a little and mouthing the words as I looked at her with…encouragement. We wandered over to the jewelry where my aunt was looking at a necklace. She turned to talk to her other daughter, but instead of listening, my cousin just started BELTING the song. AT THE TOP OF HER LUNGS. I looked around, half in horror half in laughter, to find each and every person in the store staring at my cousin. I turned back to look at her. My aunt was staring at her, right in the face. I don’t think she knew what to do. She continued on with the song–“TAKE ME AWAY. A SECRET PLACE. A SWEET ESCAPE….” I didn’t know what to do, so I ran down the escalator. That’s when I saw my other cousin. She was shaking her head…she too could hear her sister singing…while she was on the second floor. At this point I had stomach pains I was laughing so hard to the tune of my cousin singing. I couldn’t believe that had actually happened, but then again my cousin has no shame…and a pretty great voice. After all was said and done, she walked around like she didn’t just try out for American Idol in the middle of the junior’s clothing section in a Nordstrom in a mall on Long Island.

My cousin never did find a dress.

I love my family.

I Was Gonna See A Movie, But Then I Got…Sleep.

     Today, or yesterday because it’s now after 2am, I planned on having an all-day movie marathon. Not just any ordinary movie marathon where you stock up on candy and rent a few DVDs, but an in-theatre movie marathon. Yup, I was planning on shelling out just over $50 and attempt to see 5 movies in one day. On the bill would be The Goods, Paper Heart, The Time Traveler’s Wife, Julie & Julia, and Bandslam. Now, I have no doubt in my mind that this definitely could have been accomplished, but seeing that I went to bed at about 3:30am the night before, for no reason, I slept until noon and decided grabbing a burrito was more important than catching the first movie at 1:00pm. Hello obesity. Anyways, if completely ditching the movie marathon idea wasn’t enough, I sat around all day staring at the computer until my mom came home at about 4, and saved me from spontaneously morphing into mush and seeping into the cracks of the tile floor in my kitchen. It’s a good thing she came home when she did too, otherwise she’d have to mop me up…and she hates mopping when she’s already mopped. 

     After trying to convince me to give her a foot-rub, and forcing me to try on a pair of pants, my mom and I made our way to the mall, in two separate cars which is obviously the BEST way to save gas and money in this economy, hooray senseless Americans! No, but we took separate cars because I was headed over to my dad’s house after the mall for dinner, which is closer to the mall than my mom’s house, so don’t judge me, because you cannot judge me…I am unjudgeable…my new word. So we got to the mall, and went right into Bloomingdales, gotta love their valet parking service if you have a Bloomie’s charge account haha. When all was said and done, I ended up buying a pair of black flats, sunglasses, a t-shirt, some traffic light thing and I was about to purchase 3 small posters for my dorm, when my mom called me and said I had to rush to the valet station because it was closing at 6:30 and it was currently 6:30…so I power walked, because I WILL NOT run in a mall…that’s just not classy. Finally I arrived and got my car, but I REALLY wanted the posters because one of them was a Hannah Montana Movie poster, so obviously I needed it, and the vendor selling it would be gone after today. So I pulled my car around to the side, where it’s illegal to park, and clearly labeled so, and put my hazards on. My mom sat in her car behind mine as I ran into the mall for the posters. She told me to hurry up because she didn’t want my car being towed…no kidding. I was lightening fast in there, picked out the 3 posters, paid, and power walked out…I got SO good at that after today, it’s amazing what a shopping spree will do for your health! Once I got outside my mom told me security came and questioned my car being there, when my mom told the guard “she just ran into the mall to get her kid, she’ll be right out”. I’m glad my mom can think fast, but I’m also glad she had to make it sound like I had a kid and decided to leave him in the mall…good times. 

     Finally I left the mall. I arrived at my dad’s house, and was greeted by my adorable, freshly groomed fur-ball of a dog, Roxie. Apparently she was named after the character in Chicago, and I only say that because every now and then I’ll hear my dad or step-mom sing to her “the name on everybody’s lips is gonna be…ROXIE!” Yeah, that actually has happened, probably when she’s playing with her Chewy-Vuitton pocket book, or Jimmy Chew squeaky shoe. I kid you not, my dog has these toys, and yes, I bought them for her for Hanukkah. We sat, and chatted for a little bit, and by chatted I mean my dad was trying to watch the end of the PGA tournament while my step-mom tried to inquire where we should go for dinner. After the Asian guy beat Tiger Woods, and lifted his bag up over his head like 30 times, my dad turned off the TV and said “let’s go”. So, the three of us got into his car and headed over to the local sushi place for dinner. Upon arriving, my father spotted a man outside the restaurant whom he once worked with, so he said hello, and asked how he was. Now, my step-mom is convinced she knows EVERYONE and that they all know her too, so what happened wasn’t surprising, but what happened after that nearly made me pee myself. My step-mom looked at the guy my father said hello to, and apparently he looked familiar, so she said hello, gave him a hug and one of those kisses on the cheeks that older people do when their friends or whatever. She then proceeded to ask how his wife was doing because she had heard she had hip-replacement surgery. He said she’s doing well and then I just walked into the restaurant. As it turns out, my step-mom didn’t know that man, and that man had no idea who she was either. He just looked exactly like someone she actually knows…classic case of mistaken identity. What I find to be the best part though, is that he actually went along with it, which turns out to be because his ex-wife, or whatever, actually did have hip surgery, so he thought maybe he did know her, but just didn’t remember. Boy-oh-boy, what a great way to start a meal. Anyways, then we ate, and on the ride home argued about Ikea furniture, and how they picked up a couch from there once and it was terrible service, and didn’t fit in the car, and claimed they wasted hours of their life there…basically I got a headache. My dad never likes to let things go, so when we got back to the house he kept talking about it, which lead to my step-mom researching other cheap couches online for about an hour. Then I told my father I needed to interview him for a project, he said no…

     Apparently the last time I had to interview him(I sent him an email with a few questions I needed him to answer for a paper I was writing) it was too much work for him, and he didn’t want to go through that again. After some entertaining arguments, he said I could just write up questions for him, but then I informed him it needs to be a recorded, verbal interview…he did not like this. I continued to say “well if you want me to do well in school, I’ll need your help”, he then asked “oh, so it will be MY fault if you don’t do well?” I confirmed his notion, but he still decided to be difficult about it because he claimed he never had to face a challenge while trying to pursue a civil liberty. So of course this was turned into a joke as well. We were watching a television show called “Shark Tank” in which successful investors that just have too much money interview inventors and decide if they should invest in their products/services or not. My dad was trying to think of stuff he could present to the investors, or “the sharks”, on the show, and decided a good idea would be to sell cheap couches to people who go to college and have been challenged while trying to pursue civil liberties, and if they let me interview them, they receive $10 off the price of their couch…FML.

That’s normal behavior for my father…good times, but I still manage to love him.

That was my day…can’t wait to see what tomorrow brings…woop-dee-doo.