The wind out here these past few days has been vicious. You
would think that as a full grown adult, the wind would not be able to uproot you and knock you
on your ass all by itself. WRONG! It can, and it does. You’ll be standing at
the gas pump, pumping carefully, trying to hit that $20 mark
without going over by so much as a penny because when you do it feels like
you’ve won a fucking game show, and BAM! A big ass gust of wind comes along and
bowls you over. I have been unsuspectingly knocked on my ass by an invisible
force more than once…and recently.
But no wind-related incidents that I can remember were as
bad as my trip to Wal-Mart this past Sunday. I went to stock up on baby shit -
not literally, as I’ll have plenty of that in a few more weeks, but
figuratively. I am buying craploads of diapers, wipes and other baby goodies. I
figure it’ll be good to have it all ahead of time, because after I wreck my vagina popping
out a kid, I’m not gonna feel like going out much. Sound logic, yeah?
So at this particular Wal-Mart, the parking lot is lacking
any kind of structure that might protect you from the elements. So if the wind
is blowing like a motherfucker, you’re on your own. This was the case on
Sunday. I opened my door to get out of the car, and the wind ripped it from my
hands. I was just happy nobody was parked next to me, because I wasn’t in the
mood to move my car to another spot and pretend like nothing happened. So Peanut and
I managed to make it into the store without incident. But when we came back out it was a
completely different story.
So anyway, we get everything we need (and a few things we
don’t) and go to leave the store. I swear the wind got stronger while we were
in there, because when we were navigating the cart through the parking lot, it
was impossible to do so in a straight line. Then we get halfway through the
parking lot, and the giant frozen pizza I just bought GOES FLYING OUT OF THE
CART. Seriously, like the damn thing was made of Styrofoam or something. Peanut
starts screaming “OMIGOD MOM OUR PIZZA IS FLYING AWAY!!” And I’m like “SHIT
SHIT SHIT FUCK FUCK!” Because when I panic, my filter is completely gone. I say
whatever comes to mind, and hell let’s face it, it got lost in the wind this
time anyway so it’s not like anyone heard me. I choose to believe that if
nobody heard me, it didn’t happen. So I totally didn’t swear in front of my
child like a careless asshole.
By this point I've decided that I really want that fucking pizza for
dinner and I just paid $7 for it so I’m going after that bastard. It was a
Sunday morning so there wasn’t any activity in the parking lot, so fuck it – game
on. I stooped over and ran, arms outstretched, reaching for my cheese covered
salvation, as the butthole wind keeps pushing it further and further away. This
was no easy feat as I can hardly even reach the ground anymore, but I was
determined. I looked like a fool, I knew it, but I didn’t care. I heard this
documentary style monologue inside my head, in the voice of Steve Irwin,
describing me as the deadly predator stalking her prey. It was
actually pretty awesome. I felt like a champ.
Oy, isn't she a beauty?
*shrug*
At least I got my pizza. And after re-arranging some
toppings, it baked up just fine and tasted great. I had three delicious slices.
Totally worth it.
