Avoiding existential Crisis at Wal-Mart

I had been aware for several weeks that my car was badly in need of two new tires. However, being unemployed and horribly destitute - funny how the two seem to go together - I was forced to drive the car as is. It wasn't too bad. There was a slight thrill to every car trip. I never knew when the tires would blow, possibly sending my car out of control. It's these little things which keep my life interesting. Today, thanks to a monetary donation to the Keep James Afloat Fund from my Aunt, I finally was able to buy new tires. Of course, I went to the cheapest place I could think of, Wal-Mart Supercenter. (Just let me say right now that I don't want any 'How could you support the evil, unfeeling, corporate behemoth' comments. Maybe I'll fight injustice when I get the cash - maybe - and right now Wal-Mart's being quite helpful in keeping cash in my pocket. Long live the free market.)

Upon arriving at the Wal-Mart Supercenter in lovely bucolic cranberry Pennsylvania. I was informed that it would take a little over an hour for them to get to and do the work on my car. So, I had little choice but to find a way to while away the time at Wal-Mart, there being nothing else within walking distance. This presented many problems, the chief of which being Malaise. I mean malaise in every sense of the word from boredom to the more existential sense of loss and dislocation. Wal-Mart is like a factory for these feelings, especially when I am alone there. Just looking at the people in Wal-Mart makes me feel more and more distant from my fellow man. How can I have anything in common with someone in a Dale Earnhardt jacket? How can I entertain myself for an entire hour?

I could feel it. The malaise stalking through the aisles - a black cloud ready to envelope me. I had to keep my wits about me, stay sharp. I'm not ready to embrace my malaise. I don't care to become authentic whatever that means. I read it somewhere.

I sat in the tire center waiting room for maybe 2 minutes. Just long enough to drink a cup of complimentary coffee. The waiting room was truly depressing: Colorless walls, torn vinyl chairs, 6 month old issues of better homes and gardens. One other guy was in there talking business on his cell phone. I secretly hoped he would make an inappropriate personal phone call, get in a fight with his wife or something. That would've entertained the sick part of me. But he only talked about tractor prices. I left the waiting room. The man never noted my entrance or exit.

So, I was left adrift in the consumer wasteland. I moved quickly, one aisle to the next section to section, leaving whenever I felt the first shiver of boredom or despair. I took my blood pressure. It was good. I was proud of myself for a minute as I look over the deodorant for no good reason. I played with the camcorders aiming the one attached to the TV up my nose for all walking by to enjoy.

I leafed through the latest copy of People. They listed the 50 most eligible bachelors. Some how I managed not to make the list again this year. They must not know I'm single. The guys starring in the upcoming film 'Harold And Kumar Go to White Castle' made the list, so I have my suspicions as to the viability of said list.

I made a game out of taking the bouncy balls out of the bin and throwing them back into the top. I would throw them from all angles, from behind obstacles. I even tried it from an aisle over. I almost got thrown out from that.

I browsed the hunting rifles, asking the clerk questions like "Do you have anything that will make a deer's head explode?" or "Do you have anything for a guy trying to compensate for something, if you know what I mean?" I almost got thrown out for that.

I looked at the toys. I wished they had some out so I could give them a try but they didn't. So, I opened a bag of marbles anyway. I tried to pick up games with some kids until their parents pulled them away. I almost got thrown out for that.

I pulled a bike off the rack to give it a test ride. I almost got thrown out for that.

I climbed up on a display section to try out some of the exercise equipment. I almost got thrown out for that.

I unfolded a camping chair and rolled out a cooler next to it. Then I chose a fishing pole from sporting goods and a goofy hat from the Men's section. I spent a good five minutes pretending to drink beer and fish. I almost got thrown out for that.

Almost getting thrown out ended up being the key to my morning. Walking that fine line between harmless fun and public nuisance proved quite rewarding. Testing the limits of acceptable behavior at Wal-Mart, I think someone could write a thesis on this. It gave my morning just enough of an edge to ward off malaise. In the end, I got two new tires, at least 6 warnings, and no existential crisis. Sounds like a good morning to me.

Shalom