So today I'm walking around in Wal-Mart, looking for some last-minute stuff to take along with me to PASC.

(Performing Arts School of Choice.) Ahem.

And naturally I look grungy and generally nasty, as following with the code of ethics for People Painting Giant Galvanized Metal Umbrella Stands. We're talking about the hair in a messy bun, paint blotches on old faded jeans, and an unflattering extra large New Orleans Ballet Theatre tshirt.

I'm standing around on the cleaning aisle, of all places, looking for some good-smelling spray stuff, clorox disinfectant, nuclear powered stain remover, etc.

And around the corner comes your standard suburban family, complete with mother, father, baby, and two girls who seem to be about 10-12 years old. I pay no attention to them as they creep down the aisle looking for the Roach Motel, seeing as how I am distracted reading the label of a bottle of Lysol.

And the little girls stand behind me, awkwardly staring at the back of my head in awe. And I have this crazy knack of knowing when people look at me, so I whip around to see what nitwit is stalking me. I see these two stupid redneck girls just staring like retards. But I slowly turn back around and proceed to read the same label on the same can of Lysol about 20 more times before I realize....they're not going away.

This is when I start to panic about what they're staring at.

Do I have a shriveled-up twin fetus hanging off the back of my head, unbenounced to my attention for nearly fifteen years?

Do I have a heard of hungry rats climbing slowly up my legs preparing to rip me apart with their little rodent teeth?

Am I suddenly incontinent?

My eyes then begin to widen in terror as I plan how I'm going to escape from the massive store as quickly as possible and preferably without running into someone I know. Because whatever is causing these two girls to just stand behind me absolutely dumbfounded must be pretty serious.

And just as I plan to run away at breakneck speed, I feel a tug at the bottom of my shirt. I was understandably startled, and jumped 453967 feet straight up into the air.

"Are you Anne?" the girl finally manages to say.

".........." I think. My mind is like the black-and-white fuzz channel on TV.

Then, AHA! She's talking about the play I was in last summer.

"Yes," I answered, mock seriously, "I am."

They giggle for a minute and then run away to their parents and start to whisper excitedly in each others' ears.

I breathed a sigh of relief, and then had to flag down a employee to clean up the rapidly spreading pile of urine below where I was standing.

*curtain*

© alexa

The counter keeps breaking and pissing me off, so NO MORE COUNTER! Mwahaha!