Adventures in Wallyworld

The opportunity came up for me to go back to work part time with my former merchandising company. Having still not found a gal pal to hang out with and with the local Library assuming that I am a very well dressed homeless person, I  was thrilled to take it.  Being the GRIT girl that I am, I love getting dressed up and any opportunity to wear my heels ... Ok, granted, this job really requires flats, but being five foot one and a half, flats absolutely do not flatter me in the least, and since I already live in a house with giants, I practically sleep in my heels. Michael is constantly looking baffled as I walk to the shower in my favorite pumps. Anyway, back to the story, ( I easily get distracted by my shoes). Even though it was pouring down rain yesterday I was excited, I  had twenty five cases of our product to put on a display in Wallyworld.  I took great pains to plan my outfit, black jeans, great faux fur vest and of course black mules with a three inch wedge. I even had a matching umbrella. Now you must remember I have only lived here in Sugarville for a few months and I certainly do not know my way around, so my protective hubby put a navigation system in my car. I call her Betty, well actually I call her Betty the ...  but that is because she is constantly telling me to re-calculate. I actually hate Betty. I know for a fact she did not come from the University of GRITS. She has to be from somewhere up North. Ok, there I go again, I will have to devote a whole blog to Betty.  After being recalculated half a dozen times I make it to my destination; Wallyworld.   I sign in and grab a buggy to put my product and tools in, only to be told that Vendors are not allowed to use buggy's.  OK, so I have my purse, my umbrella, my camera and my hot pink box cutter. The first wallyworld person I ask for information looks at me like I am from another planet. Honest, she just stared at me for a good solid minute. I was paranoid that my mascara was running down my face or Lord help me I had a bat in the cave, (think about it). Then I realized, she spoke very little if any English!!!! I know a little Spanish but counting to five would not get me what I needed. So, after several hand motions I am in the back room face to face with ... lets use a different name,  Butt head.  He informed me where my product was and where I was to put it and with an evil grin also informed me that I would be moving over 500 cans of carnation milk in order to put it there.  All I could say to him was, "Bless your Heart".  I think if you are a southern girl you will know exactly what that means.  A few hours later I had the milk moved and was ready to start on my display... I had already come out of the fur vest and my shirt was half untucked. I realized I was going to need to climb on a ladder to get to the pricing and the top shelf.  I kick off my mules and make the climb acutely aware that my pants which are slightly too big are sliding down my rear end. At this point I really do not care, I am just praying I don't loose my balance and go flying through wallyworld.  Finally, mission accomplished.  I am proud of my work,  take a picture,  put my shoes on and gather my things and head for the door. I was leaving and in the reflection I saw this crazy lady, half dressed hair sticking up all over her head, mascara running down her face, lipstick smeared, cardboard all over her black jeans and a box cutter in her hand with the blade out ...  I screamed out loud. Dear God, what have I become??????  Oh, the day was not a total loss, I asked the young lady that spoke no English if she would be my friend and she said, "Si" .