This morning my phone rings. It’s my sister Cathy, sounding a bit frazzled and laughing at the same time.
“Deb! (haha) You’re not going to believe what happened to me!”
“What? What? You okay?”
“Yeah, I just got out of Walmart. I’ve never been kicked out of Walmart before! Ha ha ha ha!!!” She says, trying to get the words out through her laughter. At this point, I’m figuring, ‘Oh my GAWD we are officially white trash! Who the hell gets kicked out of Walmart?’
“There I was, buying a huge exercise ball. I placed it in my cart and a woman comes running from the back screaming, ‘FIRE! FIRE!’ So I run up to the cashier, and she even rang me up knowing that there was a fire in the back. Then, when I tried leaving, people were practically trampling over me while I was trying to get my huge exercise ball out from the store!” She said, as she laughed about it.
Here’s the deal. There is never a dull moment with my sister whenever we go into any department store like Walmart, Ames, or Target. Cathy and I always get the ‘church giggles’ at the most inopportune times. It never fails. I think that’s why I’m a little upset she didn’t bring me with her this morning. I missed out on a ton of fun.
About seven years ago, when my girlfriend and I were getting our first place together, we were in the new stages of buying the necessities, like silverware, plates, garbage cans and other miscellaneous items that we needed. My sister Cathy asked if she could take me to Ames (another big Walmart-type of store) and buy these things for me as a housewarming gift. What a nice gesture!
She picks me up, and we head over to the big store. As soon as we walk in, she grabs a cart. She advised me to grab my own cart too, so that we can pack more stuff in. Fine. Not even three seconds later, I realize that her cart has this ear piercing squeak to its wheels. It was almost deafening. I couldn’t stand to walk with her, so I suggested we part and meet up somewhere in the middle at a certain time.
I knew where she was every second. Her wheels echoed through out the store.
“Oh Lord.” I thought to myself. How can she even stand it? I knew every time she made a stop, because my ears would feel better. I’m surprised security didn’t run up to her and take her cart away. She was a nuisance to the entire store.
Meanwhile, back in housewares, the silence remained. She must have stopped for quite a while, or just got sick of the horrific squeak that echoed throughout the store.
Browsing through aisle after aisle, I decided to roll my cart down the bathroom toiletry section. I see her. She stood there in silence without saying a word. The stare she gave me was a ~don’t even attempt to come near me~ type of look. Why was she acting this way? The closer I got, the more evident it was that she had done something totally wrong.
I looked around for that pungent smell. What was that? Cathy’s eyes glared at me. Her smirk was enough to send me into laughing hysterics.
“Cathy!” I yelped, realizing what she had done; as if I was reprimanding a little puppy.
“Ah ha ha ha ha ha ha!!!” Her laughs were contagious. Her eyes were tearing up from the enormous belly laugh she gave off.
“Is that you?” I said, covering my face and laughing loudly.
“Ha ha ha ha haaaaa!” Is all she responded with.
“You’re sick! I’m outa’ here!” I said, as I rolled my card out of that fumigated aisle.
Then I heard it.
“No! Go the other way! Don’t follow me!” I said, in a panic.
Followed by uncontrollable laughter.
I rolled my cart faster, hoping to lose her.
“Come on Cath! Go away! Stop following me!” I call back, in fear that the mist that lingered on to her would soon consume me. I figured with all the running she did, that the aroma would soon dissipate. We finally met up, and it was okay. But there, still lingered the big squeaky cart. We checked out as soon as possible. Our giggles continued throughout the ride home. We were exhausted from out little shopping spree.
Cathy was always like a best friend to me. She still is... She makes me laugh till I cry. She begged me not to put this story up on my blog. No. I can’t grant her wish. This is payback. Now, she knows that whatever she does to embarrass me will be blogged—without her permission.
Her comic relief is to embarrass me. Even at my prom, she drove me right up to the door with her cool pimped out car. I was like, “Great! I don’t have to be seen with mom and her huge station wagon!” But it was worse than I thought.
“Everyone! Debbie’s here! Make way! Please get off the sidewalk! Debbie’s here!” She screamed out of the sunroof of her car.
Cathy, this post is for you!
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