side show

I'm not that nice of a person. We all know this. I am pretty nice to the people I love, but generally have disdain for the public. Except at work. At work I am good at people.

This morning, this Saturday, it was supposed to be a bit dreary in the morning, then, for the first time in a year, give way to a mostly sunny weekend. That's what they said. They promised, therefore I am entitled. I would work in the sun until my shoulders were pink, I'd have rings around my eyes from sunglasses, I'd be happy. And warm. Oh, and dry. I'd made a hair appointment to cover the wet part of the day, then was free to enjoy the remainder, playing in my yard.

I thought I'd run into Mac early, McMinnville, our "closest town of any size" to get some cheap wire fencing to keep the dogs out of the strawberry patch. Walmart has that sort of thing. So I got ready, drove into town before my hair appointment, and pulled into Walmart. I'm wearing my overalls and bogs for the gardening part of the day. The sunny part.

It seemed like everyone was moving in slow motion, limping like zombies, only doughy and white, dragging one foot or the other through the parking lot. Then, too suddenly, the neon lights of Walmarche, ablaze in the morning gloom. Greeting me as I entered was an exceptionally fat woman with green and purple hair sticking out in pigtails, wearing a neon-yellow Walmart safety vest. Beside her was a tiny midget with hair dyed as yellow as his own little tiny safety vest. The size contrast was impossible to ignore as the morning zombies milled around, flailing canes and carts and baskets and walkers. I know it is bad of me to be afraid of midgets, but there it is: part and parcel of my fragile psyche. 

I found the fencing, loaded more than I needed in the cart, and, head-down-not-making-eye-contact, made my way back through the store to the checkout. I was hurrying, I'll admit it. With side show clowns still watching the door, I rushed out the nearest exit. People were chasing me. I sped up, then heard some guy yelling at me. Apparently I'd left my 60.00 cashback at the register. I had to make my sheepish way back through the fat lady and her circus monkey, get my money and leave through the proper door. The midget called out as I left, "Goodbye, Sir." It took all of my self control not to tell him to fuck off. Really. All. ew.

I got to my hair appointment only to find I was an hour early. I cancelled. Fuck it. I want to go home. It is truly April Fool's Day. And the sun still hasn't come out. Not one single warm day this year and it is April. I am enraged. I am entitled. I am cold. I'd settle happily for a false spring.