Flushing My Self Respect

There was always that nagging question in my head "Who goes to Walmart in an outfit worthy of being posted on a website dedicated to booty short wearing trannys with their balls hanging out?" The answer was revealed to me last night. I have become one of those people who will, cross your fingers, be immortalized on the Internet for years to come.

It began with guilt, as most disturbing choices in my life do. The last day of school and my kids had no teacher gifts. Now, keep in mind, I live on Pinterest Princess Circle and every mom, with the exception of yours truly,  has been working on their teacher gifts for months now. The handmade rug from a loom that their husband built from recycled lumber, an exotic flower in a pot that was created on their potter's wheel in the basement, and a full herb garden encased in a hand blown glass terrarium. I am constantly out of my league. It was also retirement day for their principal who should be named a saint for what she deals with on a daily basis. I received an urgent email from a PTA someone or another suggesting, at 9pm the evening before, that we should all shower her with gifts and appreciation. I had the appreciation thing handled but the gift thing was tricky. I don't buy extra gifts and discreetly keep them in my front closet labeled " GIFTS/GIFT BAGS/CURLY RIBBON". My gift bags are plastic bags from my pantry and curly ribbon is for Christmas. Only Santa deals with that shit. I am screwed. I text my crafty mom with the full intention of driving to her house, stealing an adorable craft she made, sticking in an old grocery bag and taking credit for the whole thing. She knows I'm a dick. When I got to her house, my life went from annoying to exhausting when I saw that she had figured out how to use her computer. She was on Pinterest scrolling through craft projects for teacher appreciation. Apparently, I am the only asshole who doesn't plan this shit out. I am sure you can imagine all the sickeningly adorable sayings, candy cards and shit filled baskets that were available for our amusement. It's now 11:35 pm. The clock is ticking and I am not making a fucking craft.

So I am making a craft and it needed color coded goodies, so my next stop was Walmart. I had gone to my moms with the intention of not getting in an accident (I'm not wearing underwear), not getting pulled over (I am wearing booty shorts) and taking a total of 12 steps outside (I am wearing slippers). I was headed into the thunder dome. I sat in the parking lot waiting for a group of teenagers to drive away and to see if I could run special ops on the employee pushing carts in.  I then proceeded to lie to myself by saying that I didn't look that bad and I didn't care what people thought. While I was walking through the parking lot, the wind whipped through my hair. The hair on my legs. It is currently long enough to braid and visible from space. While I am usually a fast walker, I amazed even myself with the sprint I made from one aisle to the next. Eventually I made it to the single checkout line that was wrapped around two freestanding displays full of s'more ingredients. Could I cover my legs in marshmallows? Are graham cracker pants a thing? I waited impatiently and rubbed my furry calves together like a grasshopper. I was disgusted with myself and my Pinterest inspired teacher gift wasn't making me feel any better.

It's anyone's guess as to whether or not there was a iPhone snapping shots behind my back, I only noticed the creep with a Lean Cuisine and a 2 liter of soda who was standing inside my "GET THE FUCK OUT" bubble. As he eyed my wallet, I had a strange feeling that wearing slippers to the store wasn't going to be the biggest problem I had that evening/morning. The moral of this story? I am still going to judge people who have their ass crack showing and white Lycra on anyone never ceases to amuse. However, I now know that I can never leave my house without proper attire: yoga pants, a tank and flip flops. Lesson learned.

                                                      Call in the troops...I made this shit.