George was working overtime this morning. Mrs. Jones called me and asked me to take her to Wal-Mart so she could get a few things. I was over at their house in 20 minutes ready to go.
Well, walking into Wal-Mart for me is like stepping into over-stimulation land. The dizzying array of products. The bustling people shopping. The glaring monitors displaying Wal-Mart commercials. The elderly greeter that says hello as you walk in. My addled mind was spinning.
I followed Mrs. Jones as she toodled around with her shopping cart. Our first stop was to get George some underwear and socks. I smiled inwardly at this until I remembered mom recently bought me underwear and socks at Wal-Mart as well. George and I are in the same boat it seems.
Mrs. Jones was also on a quest for Bavarian style full fat buttermilk. "You can only find it at Wal-Mart," she told me. "It makes the very best biscuits and cornbread." Luckily, they had some and I bought a carton as well - eager to try it in my breakfast biscuits and cornbread next week.
Driving home Mrs. Jones handed me a twenty dollar bill. "Thank you!" she said. I unabashedly took it and put it in my shirt pocket. Normally, I would refuse, but I needed the money and it made Mrs. Jones feel good to pay me.