A Trip to Wal-Mart

You are in the middle of some kind of project around the house — mowing the lawn, putting a new fence in, painting the living room, or whatever. You are hot and sweaty and are covered in dirt or paint. You have your old work clothes on. You know the outfit: jeans with the hole in the knee, old t-shirt with a stain from who knows what, and an old pair of tennis shoes.

Right in the middle of this great home improvement project you realize you need to run to Wal-Mart to get something to help complete the job. Depending on your age, you might do the following.  

In your 20s:

Stop what you are doing. Shave, take a shower, blow dry your hair, brush your teeth, floss, and put on clean clothes. Check yourself in the mirror and flex. Add a dab of your favorite cologne because you never know — you just might meet some hot chick while standing in the checkout lane. You went to school with the pretty girl running the register.

In your 30s:

Stop what you are doing, put on clean jeans and shirt. Change shoes. You married the hot chick, so no need for much else. Wash your hands and comb your hair. Check yourself in the mirror. Still got it. Add a shot of your favorite cologne to cover the smell. The cute girl running the register is the kid sister to someone you went to school with.

In your 40s:

Stop what you are doing. Put on a sweatshirt that is long enough to cover the paint stain on the pocket of your jeans. Put on different shoes and a hat. Wash your hands. Your bottle of Brut cologne is almost empty, so you don’t want to waste any of it on a trip to Wal-Mart.

Check yourself in the mirror and do more sucking in than flexing. The spicy young thing running the register is your daughter’s age and you feel weird thinking she is spicy.

In your 50s:

Stop what you are doing. Put a hat on, wipe the dirt off your hands onto your shirt. Change shoes because you don’t want to get dirt in your new sports car. Check yourself in the mirror and you swear not to wear that shirt anymore because it makes you look fat. The cutie running the register smiles when she sees you coming and you think you still have it. Then you remember the hat you have on is from your buddy’s bait shop and it says, “I Got Worms.”

In your 60s:

Stop what you are doing. No need for a hat anymore. Hose the dog poop off your shoes. The mirror was shattered when you were in your 50s. The girl running the register may be cute, but you don’t have your glasses on so you are not sure.

In your 70s:

Stop what you are doing. Wait to go to Wal-Mart until they have your prescriptions ready too. Don’t even notice the dog poop on your shoes. The young thing at the register smiles at you because you remind her of her grandfather.

In your 80s:

Stop what you are doing. Start again. Then stop again. Now you remember that you needed to go to Wal-Mart. Go to Wal-Mart and wander around trying to think what it is you are looking for. The old lady that greeted you at the front door went to school with you.

3 thoughts on “A Trip to Wal-Mart

  1. Relevant to all fields:

    Walk into Walmart and realize your fly is down, as the kid walking with his mom points and laughs.

  2. You mean people actually get ready to go to Walmart? Maybe illegal immigrants and Mexicans who wish to fill-up cartloads of items like it’s Supermarket Sweep.

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