Yesterday I went shopping, and it has taken me this long to recover enough to share my experience with you. My journey began and ended at a little shop in town. I think it's one of those family run businesses, or maybe a smaller local chain. 'Twas called Walmart.

The store was underwhelming, I was just there to get some competetively priced work boots. But the PEOPLE. Ohh the people. I was grossly out of place. You could tell I wasn't a regular for a few reasons.

I was not morbidly obese.
(Or if not obese then auschwitz victim/meth addict thin)
I was not wearing sweatpants.
Or a camoflage jacket.
I did not have between 2 and 4 dozen children with me
I had all my teeth.
I did not have scraggly gross facial hair.
Neither did my knuckles drag on the ground nor did my forehead protrude dramatically nor did I become offended at geico commercials.

Surrounded on all sides by these slack-jawed cow-eyed yokels I thanked the gods profusely for having been given an fully functioning set of human DNA, an east coast education, and the fashion sense to wear clothing that neither proclaimed my nascar loyalties nor type of animal I enjoy slaughtering and eating.

Like zombies hungering for my vastly superior brain they shuffled toward me. I was only able to escape by outwitting them. By turning into the electronics aisle I lost them, knowing that their primitive culture shun such technology as sinful witchcraft. As they knelt screaming and tearing what little hairs they still had out of their skulls, or if they were female their chests I made my escape, my sexy new Brahma boots and dignity intact.

I am NOT doing any Christmas shopping. Maybe Online. Next year. After I recover some more.