The pale yellow light streams through a small gap in the grey scaled horizon, momentarily warming my chilled skin on an otherwise dreary day. My eyes squint against the brisk breeze, scanning the parking lot for potential dangers and signs of extreme overcrowding. My pulse quickens suddenly, sending a slight head-shrinking sensation to my hyper alert nervous system as the lowered Honda abruptly fires its rasping exhaust note and the over powered subwoofers rattle to life. Cautiously, I proceeded toward the entrance as my head constantly pivots back and forth like a wind vane caught in the path of an early spring storm.
Whoosh! My body reacts on pure instinct, leaping forward in a fluid, gravity defying moment of released energy. The green Buick, well-endowed with double deuces, abruptly lurches backwards; the driver preoccupied with her inbound twitter feed nearly buries me in a hurried moment of ineptitude.
Ears recording my heartbeat like an "N" ōdaiko Japanese drum...boom, boom, boom. The sliding doors lay just ahead, the sound of the air curtain ventilator cutting the air like a sharp knife. I hesitate just outside making one last scan of the environment. The overweight child riding the plastic mechanical kangaroo, Chinese motors straining to keep time. The seemingly endless parade of karts being pushed by a blue mechanical robot parading its way to the air curtain guarded entryway under the command of a skinny tattooed man with shiny facial jewelry. The six-hundred pound couple sucking on an awe-inspiring bucket of cherry Icee while coaxing an overloaded cart of Hostess products from the premises.
Deep breath.
Long exhale.
Inner monologue of assurance...I can do this. Stomach makes a short series of unusual grumbles.
The warm blast of popcorn scented air infiltrates my nostrils as the doors slide open; bile production kicks into overdrive. A small child of five or six years of age stands in my path. A large multicolored lollypop, miraculously stuffed between blue stained lips highlights an otherwise motionless figure. A reason defying strand of thick mucus streams from his left nostril, forming a glistening tentacle of nightmarish proportions. The bodily emanation engulfs the lower portion of the lollypop stick, along with straining knuckles. No parents in sight as hoards stream by, seemingly unawares of anything unusual in the visual frame.
Eyes fixed. No motion or emotion of any kind from the small humanoid figure ahead. Time has stopped between the two of us but life continues to move around us at normal speeds.
Bile racing upwards now; a single drop of hot sweat steaks down my left cheek to escape the incomprehensible awkwardness of the moment. How bad do I really need to save $6 today? Fu#k this; Wal-Mart sucks! I'm going to Target! read more