Braving Wal-Mart…Because I Want to Blog

In rural Oklahoma, at one point or another you have to make a trip to the W.M. If you’re asking yourself what the big deal is about the “dreaded trip,” then you must not be from around here.

Let’s walk through a typical experience…

First, you hesitantly look left and right at the cross walk. You make a mad dash for the door, praying you cross before a front row parking spot suddenly opens up behind you and a vortex of cars swarm. If a spot on Rows 1-3 opens up, it’s every man, woman and child for themselves. That’s considered “prime” real estate. It’s bragging rights for a week, competition is fierce and the man or WOMAN with the biggest truck wins.

Second, after you have safely arrived inside, you grab a buggy (what people here call carts). Then you begin to head down the first aisle. You say excuse me every 3 steps as you walk, because Oklahomans are nothing if not polite as they shove past each other. Another reason is that two of them are your neighbors, and one person is someone you are pretty sure you saw here last week. Might as well make a new friend right? You skip the snack aisle because you didn’t wear your steel toed boots today. (What you don’t own a pair of those? Then you definitely aren’t from Oklahoma.)

Third, by the time you reach the produce section, you begin to feel pretty good. You have almost made it, your cart is completely full and you know that you won’t have to come back here for at least a week. You didn’t have to fight to reach the peanut butter. They hadn’t sold out of paper plates. The trip is a success! You’ve even been here less than 2 hours!

Then you see the checkout lanes…Fourth, 45 minutes later you push your cart to your car. You tolerate the stares from the person waiting for your parking spot as you unload 20 bags worth of food into your car. You climb in tired and ready to head home. Navigate out the parking lot, only blaring your horn once. The end.

Anyways, that’s Wal-Mart on a good day. Today, I planned to work on a recipe for my blog and needed a few things. Then I realized….I left my grocery list at home.


The #selfie you send your Husband when you realize you left your grocery list at home.



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