Day 219
Today I was in a funk. It could be that the weather here (windy and rainy) combined with the inflating list of people who irritate me combined with the fact that I spent all morning on youtube with a dull headache led to this funk, but maybe not. But, despite the funk, today was major. Today I was a Canadian Wal-Mart virgin no longer.
We set out in my friend's giant Lincoln Continental and 30 minutes later we had parked the car in the parking lot of the closest Canadian Wal-Mart Superstore. We fought the wind and rain to the door and this is where the differences began. The entrance to the Wal-Mart Superstore in Canada is not only tiny, it is confusing. We nearly went in the exit door as it is on the side where the entrance door normally is in American Wal-Marts. This wasn't nearly as bad as when we got inside the door and instead of having a wonderful large entrance filled with rows of linked together carts, the store just began.
"Excuse me," my friend asked a nearby employee after we had looked around for two minutes. "Where are the carts?" The worker simply said, "Outside." We went out to fetch one only to see that they were at least 50 feet from the door oh and by the way, soaking wet. The thought of putting my items in a wet cart with a soggy newspaper in it almost made me want to go home again, until I saw that mandarin oranges at Canadian Wal-mart Superstore are 2 bucks cheaper than at the local fruit stand and then I felt at home.
After nearly 2 hours of bargain shopping and trying on sports bras and belts and spraying Febreeze and trying to decide whether or not I need to know what "Mediterranean-flavored Turkey Breast" tastes like I dropped 147 bucks and felt satisfied, like I had just went home to the States for a day. Well, until my friend and I had to go uphill in the rainstorm to get back to the car. My friend pointed out, "this would never happen in the states." "What?" I asked. "You would never have to walk uphill to get to your car, we would've leveled this shit out." And then, I was back in the very foreign country that Canada is to me. But, at least I bought a placemat with a map of the provinces. If I learn them maybe I'll feel more at home, well at least at times when I am not pushing a wet shopping car uphill.
Tonight I decided that me and my Valentine's Day disaster date could be friends once again, just friends. So, I invited him to watch Juno with me. I have seen Juno 25 times or so. Everything was going alright except that every time he did something like set up the TV input to video he wanted me to give him praise. I am starting to think he is a puppy. Further evidence of this puppy theory could be observed in the manner in which he thought he should paw at me every so often. When I retracted from his touch and between times of him sighing and being a freaking baby about watching bodily functions on screen such as barfing into an urn, he said, "What's wrong?" "Are you okay?" "Does this movie make you emotional?" Answers: "Nothing." "I'm fine." "I had a fucking sniffle, Jesus." But I learned something very important: I'd rather watch Juno with a dog for oh so many reasons the main one being; dogs can't talk.
On Facebook today the guy who once bought me a Dungeons and Dragons starter set as a present posted that he made out with a drunk girl tonight. I posted a "What happened?" His father then posted "She's just jealous." This is the reason why you shouldn't friend your parents on Facebook, well that and those drunken slutty photos you always get tagged in, you know the one with your tongue precariously licking something or someone, you know, the ones you don't untag because you secretly think you look hot in them. Luckily, my parents don't know how to even log into their yahoo email account. Tonight's exhibit reminds me why I shouldn't teach them how. Or, I could just tell them their computer will get a virus if they go on the internet...
So my mother sent me a dollar's worth of fortune cookies from Wong's (like 20 of them). Everyday I have been opening one. Yesterdays cookie said, "You will make a name for yourself." I tried to take this in a positive sense, like I will sell a bestselling novel, not the I am a homicidal maniac type interpretation. Today's fortune reads something like, "You are naturally competitive." What are the two ways to interpret that? I will be happy because I am always pushing myself to be the best, or I will end up with a pill addiction, crying naked on a hotel floor because I realize that I will never be the best. Maybe I should give up on the fortune cookies.
When my future grandkids ask me why I have been having a holiday on April 3rd every year since 2010 I will tell them that that is the day that I not only became experienced in the ways of Canadian Wal-Mart, but also the day when I was surfing the net and came across Bernie Barker. Bernie who, at age 66, was the oldest male stripper ever. Sadly, he passed away in 2007. I am choosing this day to celebrate and wonder and shudder and mostly smile thinking of him.
Tip of the Day: The hardest lesson to learn in this life is that just because you buy a bag of Goldfish crackers doesn't mean you have to go home and eat the bag of Goldfish crackers in one day.
-Canadian Castaway
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