l i l e p h y t e

May 18th, 11:21 | On the subject of my complete lack of self-control

Right. So the first Ultimate game is tomorrow night and seeing as how I'm going to be enough of a disappointment to the team what with my complete lack of stamina and all, I figured I should at least have reasonable footwear (i.e. cleats) so that I can, ahem, try to corner/change directions with speed/alacrity. So. Being short on time and all, and also not needing to be in till 10 this morning, I figured I'd drop into Walmart (which opens at a shocking 8am and stays open till 10pm; no wonder parents love that store) and grab a pair of cheap cleats (because sporty I am not -- this is about the only thing I need cleats for) and then head in to work.

So off I went this morning, gallivanting merrily through rush-hour traffic to park in the oddly-not-empty lot at Walmart. The breakdown of my shopping episode follows:

    8h26 :: park in the shadow of a Doritos truck at Walmart, still marvelling that they're open at this hour
    8h27 :: walk in, get directed by the greeter (who has never heard of cleats) to the shoe section; consider getting McDonald's but then get distracted by colourful flip-flops
    8h28 :: do not buy flip-flops
    8h35 :: leave shoe section happy with choice of cleats (only $19.97!) and head back towards front of store
    8.40 :: get lost on way to front of store, and manage to pick up candy (for team) and a random rainbow-stripey bra (because I am powerless against the allure of cool socks or underwear, and come on! Stripey rainbow bra!). Pause at front of store to grab a basket. Head for shampoo-type aisles.
    8:54 :: Exit Walmart wondering how $20 cleats managed to cost $64.

So clearly I am not to be allowed -- under any conditions -- to shop by myself. And especially not at Walmart. That damned happy face is demonic, I tell you.

In other news, there's a split bag of Werther's pouring out onto the desk near me that I'm trying to ignore. Happily other members of my team are slinking guiltily up to the table and guzzling those damned butterscotches too. See? I'm not the only one.

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