Wednesday, October 3, 2012

A Tactical Guide to Hiding Underwear in Your Shopping Cart

"You didn't tell them you were buying underwear at Walmart, again, were you, my love?"  "Darling, you know I don't flaunt our wealth."
Afternoon Readers,

I'm getting ready to bake cookies. Not trying to brag. Just giving you a heads up where that giant mushroom cloud you'll see at lunch will be coming from. And the news people will say, "It was hideous, Linda. The neighborhood is radio active and covered in pumpkin. The area is virtually overrun with the orange and screaming. And now, here's Carl with the weather. Carl?"

But before I head to the kitchen, I'll go get some more coffee. Wait, I guess I have to go to the kitchen to do that. I almost got started with baking way earlier than I intended. Hold on, let me slow my pulse down to the canter of an obese pony...

I suppose I should be more excited to get in there and start making those two-ingredient delights. After all, I took the time to pair hideous maternity pants and a stretched-out top to make the trip to get milk and canned pumpkin. But I'm really lazy, so I'll take this time to mention that I also bought underwear.

I know what you're thinking... And, yes, I also think we should bring back the milkman. This business of having to drive to get milk is getting ridiculous. Can I get an amen and a free cow? Oh, and somebody to milk it. I don't touch Nature.

Now, I know my Readers comprise ninety-percent of the classiest people on the internet, but there's still a chance you haven't reached the pinnacle, the summit, the place where I not only smoke cigarettes out of a Cruella Devil-like holder and yell things at my staff like, "It's pronounced "Chiiiiffooooonnn", not "Chiiiivvvooon". Now, order me twenty! And, Todd, don't forget to shower the monkey."

I speak, of course, of being able to buy your underwear the same place as your Cracklin Oat Bran. This is usually a snap decision for me. I don't think. I know. When I see a cotton/poly blend with that three dollar sticker on it, I have to have it. The sandpaper-like feel of opulence. The careful hand stitching from China. That little red sticker that whispers, "Go ahead. You've already paid two out of the fifty bills this month."

I understand not all of you have come into that type of wealth, but, when you do, there are a few tips you need to know, before you go filling your cart with unmentionables and evaporated milk.

1.) Make sure they're your size. Just because it says XL on the discount sticker, doesn't make them the desired XXL.

2.) When you've found the pair you want, try and wedge them between the frozen pizza and beef jerky. This keeps other shoppers from calling you "uppity", but also provides that surprise chill when you out your new purchase on for the first time.

3.) The conveyor belt's a great place to show off, but remember you have class. Don't put them right on top of the Special K. Be discreet; prop them under the car oil. Brush off the cashier's compliments with, "Mine? No. Picking them up for a rich cousin."

4.) If you're asked whether you want them left out with your Diet Coke, wave the checker off politely.

5.) Most importantly, wash, wash and wash again before wearing. But have your assistant do that. You don't have time for such things.

Until Next Time, Readers!