Anything can happen at Walmart

If my printer were a vehicle, it would be a big-ol' SUV. It seems like it slurps up about a cartridge of ink for every 10 pages of print. For that reason, I stopped by Walmart the other day for a new ink cartridge.

After getting the ink, I made the usual rounds: $5 DVD shelf, fish tanks, BMX bike display, etc. At last I ended up in the produce section, where I began picking out some grapes. Just as I found a firm variety, an old lady came up and grabbed me by the elbow.

"I'm not sure about something," she stammered, while leading me to the broccoli stand. I was wearing shorts and flip flops, so she couldn't have mistaken me for a store clerk. Nonetheless, she pointed to a sign that said "$.99 ea," then proceeded to orate a 2-minute lecture on why broccoli should be sold by the pound, not by the unit.

I had to nod repeatedly and slowly walk backwards until the lady forgot she was talking to me.

Certainly crazier things have happened at Wally's Mart, though. When I was a teen, my younger brother and I got in a full-fledged fist fight over who's turn it was to play the Nintendo 64 that was on display. I eventually dropped him with a knee to the soft part of his thigh and regained command of the controller.

I'm also fond of the time I got recruited by a scammer at the $5 DVD stand. I was standing there looking for something that wasn't an old box-office flop when I noticed a guy start to sidle up next to me. I continued to scan the titles, with him breathing over my shoulder, until eventually he spoke up. "Don't I know you from somewhere?"

I looked at him, and said "No, I don't think so." He replied, "Oh, you look familiar. Well anyway, what do you do for work?" Confused and surprised, I told him I operated "heavy equipment" (little did he know I was referring to my 4-cylinder car out in the parking lot).

He said that sounded cool, then chirped up, "What if I could help you make 10 thou a month by working just 20 hours a week?" I told him I wouldn't wander Walmart to Walmart, preying on people at the $5 DVD stands, for any amount of money.

A lot of people don't like to shop at Walmart because of incidents like the ones I've mentioned. And some people say a few of the folks that shop there are too--what's the word--peculiar? (peopleofwalmart.com) As for me, those are the very things that keep me coming back.

The Challenge

Had a little chat with my wife tonight... I have a new goal that I wanted to discuss, and hopefully get her approval on. As many of you know, she's with child. Assuming a normal pregnancy, she has 24 weeks left. So just under two trimesters to go.

OK, enough pregnancy talk. My goal is to keep up with my wife's pregnancy weight, pound for pound. A credible source tells me that the average woman should gain about a pound a week during the final two trimesters.

So... can I gain 24 pounds by the time the baby arrives?

Wait, before you answer that question you need to understand my body type. I'm 6'1" and I currently sit at a buck fifty-five. Been at that mark a long time, too. I've got the metabolism of a chipmunk and the build of a greyhound (the dog, not the bus).

Also, I will make the attempt without supplements, pills, or protein shakes. Save the creatine for high school jocks. I'm a man of the land, and I'll be consuming meat, potatoes, and country grits.

Surprisingly enough my wife said she doesn't care if I make the attempt, just because she doesn't think I can do it. What do you think? Feel free to cast your vote in the sidebar.

Goodbye old friend; hello repo

I parted ways with an old friend last week. We met On-line, just over five years ago. In our time together things didn't always go smoothly. But we had to learn to get along, considering we spent time together every day. We traveled together, ran errands together, and got our pockets rifled by the same sleazy mechanics.

I think everyone loves their first car, whether it's a piece of crap or not. If it moves, it can get you to the local burger joint. If it has a passenger seat, well, it's a whole lot better than picking up a date in your mom's minivan.

I think everyone cherishes the memories of their first car.

Once I thought the time with my first car was going to be cut very short. I had just bought the thing, and shortly thereafter moved into my new apartment at college. I normally kept my car parked in the lot behind my apartment complex, and I could see it from my window.

One morning I woke up, and it was gone. I ran outside and searched up and down the neighborhood. I ran back inside and checked my roommates' bedrooms, thinking maybe one of them took it for a late-night joy ride and ended up parking it in a canal, or something. But they were all cuddled up in their beds, sleeping like slugs.

With no other options, I called the police. Just as I was talking to an officer, the receptors of my brain finally connected; I had parked my car on campus the night before. "Sounds like someone had too much to drink last night," the officer stated. I certainly wished I could blame my stupidity on strong drink.

I'm glad my car never got stolen. It had a full future with me, lying in wait. It would take me and my roommates to the Mexican border so we could buy fake Oakley sunglasses. It would rear end some dude's car on University Avenue. It was going to take me on a first date with my future wife... and apparently my car and I did enough to make me look like husband material.

I passed my car onto my younger brother a few days ago. I always wanted to drive it till its dying day, and sometimes it seemed like it was almost there, but now that honor is left to him.

My new ride is a bank repo, at least that's what struck my eye when I looked at the Carfax report. Since my new car came from an owner that told the bank to stick it, it must be plenty rebellious at heart. We should get along just fine...

It takes time to absorb big news

It was a normal day. I had just gotten home from work and I was walking into the kitchen. There on the table sat one of those little pregnancy timeline discs, showing important dates at each trimester.

Many things go through a man's head when his wife tells him she's pregnant (although I'm sure many more things go through a man's head when it's not his wife). Here's what went through my mind, in order of occurrence:

"_______ (brain lapse; 4-5 seconds)."
"Wow, cool...."
"No, not cool. How can I get out of this? Is this reversible?"
"Actually, having a kid could be really cool."
"I wonder if she's going to let herself go."
"Oh crap, I'm not ready to be a dad!"
"She's going to make me paint the second bedroom like an Easter egg."
"Wow, I'll be a dad!"

A woman can only stand silence for so long after she bears that kind of news. Eventually a man has actually got to say something. All I came up with was, "How do you know it's mine?" Women aren't really looking for a joke at a time like that, I found.

Women just take the news of pregnancy a lot more favorably than men. Which shouldn't surprise anyone. For example, men take the news of a hot-dog eating contest winner more favorably than women: "Cool!" vs. "Eew, gross."

Pregnant women are excited about staring their new role as a mother, e.g., buying children's clothes, rocking a baby to sleep, and reading nursery rhymes. Guys, however, are worried about losing their comfortable role as an idiot. As a father, can I still paint-up my bare chest and go to football games? Can I still watch Rocky I through IV all in one day, once a year? Can I still, well... you get the point.

I hardly know a thing about pregnancy, but so far I know that women are either really hot or really cold after they first get pregnant. And that changes on the second--not on the minute or hour like with un-pregnant women. I'm either being ordered to crank on the A/C or to bring out the space heater. Sometimes they want both going at the same time.

I also know they can hurl at any moment. And what makes them nauseous is as elusive as what makes them hot or cold. One day it's the smell of butter. Then it's the interior of a car. Next it's the look of my toenails.

It's all fun though; part of life's journey. Your beautiful wife goes through all that, then in a matter of months you're rewarded with a mini version of yourself. Except the little guy/gal will have some of the wife's genes, so it's bound to be an upgraded version--thank goodness.