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Counting Down From Zero

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Yes, I WILL take another Dew but I am gonna need you to add a Zero, cuz I'm trying to watch my figure.

Let's get this out of the way right away so I can label this a review.  I don't know what sort of witchcraft is going on over at PepsiCo, but this Mountain Dew Zero is Mr. Bombastic.  Nearly all of the taste of dew with none of the gut rot.   Each can takes me on a magical journey.  Just remember this important piece of advice as this blog is nothing if not educational.  Take that little slice of heaven out of the fridge and place it for EXACTLY 11 minutes prior to consuming.  You can thank me later.

Review over.  Oh, by the way...I refuse to believe that Pepsi Zero is in fact Pepsi Max.  Conspiracies abound because it tastes better.

Time to put on my big boy pants.  No, not metaphorically speaking...like seriously I don’t fit in my pants.  It feels like a tipping point where it will be a lot easier to just let go.  I need only walk towards the light of the fridge and si…

Errands...my personal battlefield

As you know, madness is like gravity.  All it takes is a little push.

why so serious?

Sorry.  Was away for a bit.  I get it is frustrating. Life without me is understandably hard. 

I needed to punish Google. They suspended my ads for what they termed "clicking my own ads".  I am not sure if that is a metaphor...I am afraid to ask.  I do know Alexa is always listening.

I don't even know why I have ads on here.  I am pretty much my only reader. I guess I somehow clicked an ad that showed up and it was actually kind of intriguing. They must frown upon that sort of thing.  In order to fight back I decided to go on a writer's strike.  

Yes, I know that only hurts my audience but I always have been a little self-abusive.  It was important to take a stand and protect my most important resource:  the reader.  I am all about the reader.  Besides, the ads really brought my blog posts together and it wouldn't be fair to put out a subpar, ad-free product when i can put out subpar product with ads. I think I will ditch them completely though.

So while this post may seem a little off center it really is right down the middle.  This is a survival guide blog for rational mid-life people...and Walmart tests mental survival like nowhere else.

I am embarrassed to admit I love running errands with Lisa.  With one exception.  Walmart.  Lately there has been so much Walmart.  I generally question my decision to go there as soon as I pull out of the driveway.   Still, the prices on their 5 hour energy knockoffs are too good to ignore and I have a whole lot of 5 hour stretches ahead of me.  I am about to enter the thunderdome.  Time to match the crazy and adopt my crazy alter ego.  Or maybe it is my main ego.  I can never remember.  Either way, taking on another persona at Walmart keeps me sane for some reason...like I am among my people.

Smile, because it confuses people.

The Walmart journey inevitably starts and ends with the scooter people.  I have a Psychology degree so I am qualified for little else than an in-depth study of scooter civilization.  I like to evaluate each scooter person I see and assess their motivation for scootering.  Sit in their seat, you might say.  In sweat pants.  It is important to separate those fine folks potentially benefiting from scooting from those treating it as a free Adventureland.  I know there are fine, rational scooter folk.  They are just rare.   I can't logically interview each one for scootability scores.   Experience has forced me into some assumptions.  Like, why would you block me from the bagels for what seems like hours because you can't reach them?  How did you get into the scooter that you can't get out long enough to reach the bagel?  Are you afraid of a fellow Scooter the Hut just waiting to snag that thrill ride should you leave your pilot seat momentarily?    I know I should offer to help and I promise every other place and time in my life I go out of my way to assist...well...everyone.  I just fear if for even a second I let my guard down, make eye contact...or god forbid conversation...the entire framework of my life will crumble.  It is irrational, but this is how my Walmart mind thinks.

The self-checkout is so stressful.  I mean after the clearance aisle, which is inexplicably the narrowest aisle despite being the most populated...the self-checkout is madness, ground zero.  Like why do people use the price checker and then just move on?  I talked to some locals for intel after realizing i was paying for things I didn't buy.  Sure enough, when Wal-people don't know the price of things, they just go scan them and walk away...leaving me to pick up the pieces.  Self-checkouts are hard.

The only sensible way to live in this world is without rules. 

Don't even get me started on battling self checkout with my favorite significant.  She LOVES self-checkout and this only makes her magically stop time as she surveys the scene.  She plots each bag battle with such detail and precision that time literally stops.  I mean it literally...stops.  I am not allowed to touch anything in the cart.  Everything has its place.  Everything in order.  I wouldn't understand.  Back away.  I can load the bag when she dismisses it.  Hopefully the machine won't scold me and tell me to return items to the baggage area.

Solo trips?  Well, I am afraid to learn how to self-checkout bananas.  Do I really look like a guy with a plan?

How does that angry looking man at the entrance decide whether to check my receipt?  Is he profiling me?  Should I look indifferent?  Should I smile and exchange pleasantries?  Am I sweating?  Did I scan those Christmas Snowball's that were 90 percent off?  I don't know!!!  I hate it here.  Why is that person yelling for their kids across the store?  Why is the room spinning?

As a side note, I regularly see coworkers on the front lines in Walmart.  I think we go to great lengths to avoid eye contact.  I respect that.  I don't want to be there...they don't want to be there...better to just pretend it isn't happening at all.  Peace and love.

I walk to my truck like the survivor of an old west showdown.  That is just how I roll.  Until next time Walmart...until next time...




When the chips are down, these... these civilized people, they'll eat each other. See, I'm not a monster. I'm just ahead of the curve.





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