Yikes! Val Thevictorian is now one of THOSE PEOPLE! The Persons of Walmart!
Don't be judging Val on her sartorial selection. Even her favorite gambling aunt tells her she needs to get some new clothes, but Val is a procrastinator, and rarely goes anywhere besides the gas station chicken store and Walmart, and is quite comfortable in her wardrobe that has become roomy as a result of Val making wise choices. The fact that her clothing fits her like a Sharpei's skin makes no nevermind to Val.
But that's not the reason you may see her on a website that ridicules the Persons of Walmart. Nope. Val's inclusion would not be due to an assault on the eyes inside the store, but rather an assault to the sensibilities outside the store.
I have become one of those people who work on their car in the Walmart parking lot!
I KNOW! I'm not proud. It had to be done. In full view of some middle-aged bake sale moms. Just my luck that I had scored a prime parking spot by the doors, the first one next to the handicap space. Those bake sale moms could have consumed their own wares, and enjoyed snacks and a show.
Let the record show that T-Hoe, according to Hick, holds 5.5 quarts of oil. I had poured in one Saturday afternoon to silence the alarm that commanded me to shut off the engine. On the advice of HOS, who said the dipstick showed no oil whatsoever, I was planning to add two more. But, being an overachiever, I bought four quarts of Pennzoil 5W-30 while I was in Walmart. That's because, on the way there, that oil gauge went all wonky again, and dipped down to alarm levels, though thankfully the chime remained mute.
I had a couple of other stops to make, and was leery of driving T-Hoe without infusing more fluids into him. Since I had left my yellow plastic funnel at home, I also bought another plastic funnel. Blue. I knew there was no alternative but to pour oil into T-Hoe before I left the Walmart parking lot.
I unloaded the groceries from the cart, pushed it to the nearest concrete signpost to join a bevy of other carts (their cart corrals are too few and far between), and propped open T-Hoe's hood. I opened up the cap for the oil thingy and jammed in the blue funnel. I figured I'd pour in one quart and see how it went. Huh. It went fast! So I got another. I was in the midst of pouring that one in when a man walked right by. Like...inches away from me. He was on the way to his vehicle, conveniently parked right next to T-Hoe!
Normally, Val would eschew the small talk with strangers, since in the past, it has only led her down the twisty trail to Weirdoville. But this guy looked like Robert Duvall with white hair and a wonky eye. Val is a sucker for Robert Duvall! This guy even talked like him. Though I regret to report that I kept gazing into the wonky eye, thinking it was the seeing one.
I explained my predicament, assured Bob (I'm sure he wouldn't mind me calling him that) that I had things under control, and chatted about the engines of Chevys from 2008-2010, his unimpressedness with Acadias (he rode in one once), and his son-in-law's 2010 Chevy pickup with only 39,000 miles on it that eats oil like an emmer-effer. My words, not Bob's. He was quite the gentleman, speaking to me from behind the wheel of his white-with-wide-blue-stripes 1980s conversion van. I didn't catch the make or model.
I was happy to have companionship while I performed my auto maintenance on Walmart's parking lot. It made me feel like not such a spectacle.
If you see a picture of me on social media, please pretend that you don't know me. And whatever you do, don't LIKE it or RE-TWEET it or make it GO VIRAL.