Lost in Walmart
Dear Meghan,
Since you'll be incommunicado all weekend and we could hardly hear each other on the phone, I thought I'd tell you this story before I forget it. We went shopping yesterday. It was social security check day for everybody, so Walmart was packed. We got lucky and I got a mobility cart for Mom. We'd already walked to the Ross store and then to Panda Express and then over to Walmart so she was fading fast. We put our folding camp chairs in the basket.
Walmart has taken away the outside benches during CoVid
and never put them back, so we take our own chairs to wait for the
return bus. We also loaded the bag from Ross, and Mom's purse in there.
This info is important to the story. Mom took off in the electric cart
and I waited around to see if anyone dropped off another cart on their
way out. My knees have had it so when I can get off them it helps. My
left knee has a big dent in it where the cartilage has worn away and
left it bone on bone. I now understand why Grandpa used to walk the way
he did. I walk like that now. Anyway nobody gave up a cart, so I took
off with the shopping basket full of stuff looking for your Mom.
The woman can disappear faster than a Navy SEAL in full camo in the
middle of a jungle. I searched for her for quite a while, bought some
clearance sale chrysanthemums and scanned the retail horizon before me.
No sign of my Sweet Baboo.
Then I got a bright idea. I'd call her phone and get her to tell me
where she was. To my surprise and relief, when I called, I heard her the
distinctive sound of her phone ringing somewhere up ahead of me.
So off I went trying to find the source of the sound. She wasn't answering her phone so I figured I'd follow the ringing. I have her set up with an old-fashioned telephone ring so it's quite loud and easily to identify. Still, I couldn't quite track down the source of the ringing. It seemed to move here and there ahead of me. When the phone went to voice mail, I called again. The ringing sounded really close by so I took off again in pursuit. This time it sounded like she was in the cleaning supplies (not surprising), so I hurried on hoping to catch her. She still wasn't answering her phone. Again the phone went to voicemail and stopped ringing. I called again from the sour cream and yogurt section. This time it sounded like the ringing of her phone was coming from behind the back wall.
I circled back found those double swinging employee doors going back into the stock room. I opened it a little and it sounded like she was back there somewhere. So I turned my cart around and parked it by the door. I rang her phone again. This time the ringing had moved off, to the left again sounding like it was moving but now moving behind the back wall of the store. I hurried to follow, hoping she'd pop out somewhere. Finally, I came to the shoe section. "Aha!" I said, knowing she'd been looking at shoes earlier. I reached the end of the back aisle and turned left onto the sneakers aisle. Again the ring tone seemed move quickly cutting across my path coming out from behind the wall. moving behind the display shelves ahead and settled on a new course somewhere up ahead somewhere. By chance, as I accelerated to catch up with her, I glanced down into the basket and stopped.
My eye caught sight of a brown bag with MAMA written on it in big letters. A sudden awareness began to dawn on me. This was Sheila's handbag there in the front of my basket. And what would be in her handbag? Wallet, hand sanitizer, hairbrush, perfume, her medications, and..............................................................oh nuts! Her phone!
I'd been frantically following the sound of her phone ringing at me from the front of my shopping cart trying to keep up with a phantom wife. I'm getting too old to keep up with a shopping wife. So, I went to the Subway at the front of the store, bought a drink and sat down to wait. Sure enough, in about twenty minutes, I heard my name being paged to come to the fitting room to meet my wife. I stumbled back across the store to find my sweetie perusing the clearance rack. We managed to escape Walmart once we joined forces and got out for just under $200. She says she's going to quit going shopping because she spends too much money. I'm not helping much. She shops by picking up things, trundling around for a while and then putting it back on the shelf because she thinks she's spending too much.
Earlier she'd put back some shoes and some lavender hand lotion. Coming along behind her, I picked up the discarded items and carried them along with me on the side where she couldn't see them to the checkout stand. While the cashier was ringing up her stuff, I slipped the shoes and lavender lotion onto the counter while she was looking for something in her purse. I can't stand for her to not get what she wants. Us guys are like that. Our wives put up with so much from us, we jump at any opportunity to spoil them just a bit. We guys have no idea how to get in her head and just know what she needs or wants. So, if we see that she wants something, we jump on it. Notice that women and men express love in different ways. Women read your mind and do things for their men before they ask. It is their highest form of love. Sheila buys stuff for me that I didn't know I needed.
Men on
the other hand, express love by deed - I'll climb the highest mountain,
fight tigers, cross blazing deserts and raging rivers. Our expressions
of love are things we can do that we know how to do. We're lousy at
guessing what women want. We don't read minds. Tell us and we're on the
job. It's the nature of men and women. Men do goal directed stuff. Women
build nests and social circles. Men are outwardly focused against the
threats from the world against their wives and families. Women are
inwardly focused, trying to make everyone in the circle, if not, happy,
at least safe, alive and breathing.
So guys like me follow our wives' handbags around Walmart, rescuing
shopping discards and trying to figure out how to make them feel
special. I'm going to go ice down my knees now. She's taking a nap. All
is well in our little world.
(c) 2024 by Tom King
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