i feel a little more stupid ...

we all do it, tho we don't like to admit, but there comes a time when it's unavoidable. we're secretive around our friends about it and only mention it if it pertains to the current conversation or if someone else brings it up ... we make fun of people who do it all the time and we feel shamed when we are forced to.

you might be scratching your heads by now, but i am referring to that time in dire need when you can't help yourself and you walk into ... (dramatic music plays) ... k-mart.

yes ... i am a mere shell of my former self after having set foot in the red and white limbo that is martha stewart's home for wares. as soon as my feet squelched off the sticky linoleum at the entrance way, i should have turned around and walked out, knowing that nothing good can come of this. i should start carrying a full-body condom around in my jeep and don the getup whenever, should the moment arise again, i enter into the orifice of what can only be described as the "rectum of chain stores."

you see, it wasn't without direction that i meandered down the dirty aisles--worthless items on sale sitting eschew on their metal deathbeds--avoiding small clusters of wifebeater-clad yokels and dodging blinding streaks of children running around being chased by overweight mothers shouting, "you wait ::breathe:: until i ::breathe:: catch you!" no, you see ... i was on a mission. i required an item that would make my day at work much more bearable ... i needed ... a desk fan!

so i wound my way across stained floors and stand-alone displays in near total disrepair to the home and office section where i found marcia, the quintessential k-mart employee. marcia seemed normal enough, save for the fact that she was holding an entire conversation with herself about the labels she was currently affixing to the shelves holding notebooks. i cautiously approached.

me: excuse me?
marcia: ::head whipping around as if in surprise:: yes?

i immediately noticed that her right front tooth was missing and her left front tooth looked like butter.

me: um, i'm looking for a small fan to sit on my desk at work. ::making a small circular shape with my hands to show approximate size i needed::
marcia: all our fans is over there. ::points with a hand tipped with fluorescent pink acrylics, which, by the way, do NOT go with her fire-red hair::
me: oh, ok, thank you. ::smile congenially::

i walk over to where she gestured and found the fans ... all of them far too big to be considered for desk-top usage. i sighed. the only one that they had even remotely small enough was one of those clip-on deals that you buy for college kids so they can attach it to their desk. so not getting that one. i turned around and walked away.

i walked in to get one item and i walked out with two: a thin sheen of filth and a mental deficiency.