If this really was a hoax, I couldn’t figure out the endgame. Two months later, I’m still scratching my head.
For starters, Walmart is my least favorite store on the planet — except when it isn’t. This particular Tuesday, it was the only way to go. I needed a small folding table for my Good News Club, and I knew they’d have it. I figured it wouldn’t be too crowded this early in the afternoon, but everything close to the front was taken, including the “handicapped” parking. Drat. However, the next aisle over I saw a small red car — not a sports car, just a little compact — with its trunk open as the couple were putting the packages in. She was some looker – long blond hair, great figure and wearing a short skirt with high, high heels. I figured by the time I made a loop down the next aisle and got back, they’d just be pulling out. As I came back around though, they were still at it.
It appeared they were having a problem fitting a small coffee table with short legs into the trunk. There were already several packages inside and he was arranging them as she held onto the table. I could see they weren’t going anywhere soon, so I went on and turned right this time into the handicapped aisle. Just at that moment, a car pulled out and I swooped into the vacated space. And lo and behold, I was facing the little red car and had a clear view because the space on the other side (between us) was “No Parking. For Emergency Vehicles Only.”
Now they had changed places — he was standing to the side holding the table and she was re-arranging the trunk. And was she ever! She was leaning all the way into the trunk and I do mean all the way. One high-heeled foot barely remained on the ground as she stretched as far as she could. And her skirt — did I remember to say that it was very short? Really very, very short — had ridden up to the point where that old playground chant came to mind: “I see London, I see France, I see someone’s underpants.” Yes, indeed. (They were black, but I couldn’t tell from this distance if they had lace. And, by-the-way, I wasn’t the only one looking.)
I was fascinated. I watched as she struggled. The problem seemed overwhelming. After several minutes, a Walmart Security car cruised up and the man got out. A conversation ensued, and somehow, miraculously, they managed to fit the table and all the rest into the trunk. Ready to go! The security guy hopped back in his truck and pulled away. Just when I thought the little red car was going to leave, the girl turned and hurried back toward Walmart. Evidently they weren’t done with whatever they were there for. But wait …
Just then the Security car pulled up once again. The girl saw him, turned and trotted back to the little red car and got in. The Security car waited patiently until they backed out and then followed them to the exit. The show was over.
But what was the point? Was she trying to pick up someone, and if she was, why Walmart? I mean, Neiman Marcus and Saks Fifth Avenue are only a few miles away. If I were going to try to score, it sure as heck wouldn’t be at Walmart.
In any case, that was a few weeks ago and I still haven’t figured it out. Ideas, anyone?