I was pretty cranky Friday morning because I knew I was going to have to make a trip into town to do the monthly banking and go to the dreaded Wal Mart. It makes me cranky most any day that I have to get dressed so there were those two strikes against the day to start off.
I walked what felt like 500 miles up one aisle and down another while trying to find the things on my short list. I was very pleased with myself for actually remembering the list, but it didn't seem to save a whole lot of time since they keep MOVING everydamnedthing in that place.
Who would have imagined that the marshmallows would be over on the aisle with the juices, on a shelf at floor level, below the jello?
I finally found all of the things for the kiddy party that I had forgotten the first time I went, and was wandering around between the THREE lanes that were open. I finally just pushed my cart in behind a lady who seemed to have been shopping for a whole month, and waited.
While waiting, retired football Coach and Mrs. Coach pushed their buggy in behind mine, so I at least had someone to pass the time with. We chatted about what they'd been doing, how the kids were, and about Mrs. Coach's experiences with back surgery. She'd had a bad experience with a quacky doc who'd cut twice without fixing anything, finally changed doctors and was on the mend from the 3 surgery (which finally fixed her up). After a few minutes of chatting, Coach decided he'd forgotten to get some hair gel, so off he went to find that item.
The lady in front of me had finally finished loading up the conveyor thingy and her stuff had moved enough for me to place my things behind the divider. When the checker started on my stuff, I noticed that Coach hadn't returned (you know that men have a harder time finding things than we do), so I unloaded Mrs. Coach's items so she wouldn't have to (she was still in a back brace). I had to laugh as I left, cause Coach was still somewhere looking for the hair gel. I bet Mrs. Coach was a little perturbed by then.
I made it to my truck, threw my stuff into the back seat, and as I was pushing the buggy into the slot thingy, I noticed a lady was almost in tears standing beside a big suburban next to where I'd parked. I asked her if she was ok; if there was anything I could do to help, and she told me she'd locked her keys in the car and the door pad wasn't taking her unlock code. I noticed the passenger window was down a couple of inches so I asked her if she had purchased anything with a long handle that I could put down inside the window to push the door lock thing.
That was a negative.
Then, a light bulb went off in my mostly empty head, and I went to my truck, reached in, and came out with Zach's tae kwon do practice sword.
A few people were giving me some strange looks but nobody ran or anything, so I slid it out of the scaboard and slid the blade down inside the window and pushed the lock button.
There. All done.
I went back to my truck, climbed in, and as I drove away I got to thinkin'.
I sure hope that suburban belonged to that lady, cause I had just helped her break into it.
With a sword.
I was watching out for blue lights and listening for sirens when I left the parking lot.