Shopping for Compromise

Interesting discovery today. While driving to town to get a spark plug for the “I don’t want to start even if Tirethere’s an ice storm warning” generator, the car went ding and a low tire graphic came up between the tachometer and speedometer. Hmm. That was a new one on me. My truck usually goes thump thump thump to let me know I need air, but me and my truck are old school.

The Mrs decides we need to address the low tire issue with a trip to Wally World. She likes to multi task by having them fix her tire while she walks through every isle to purchase maybe two items and put some miles in.

orang-hatWhich left me in a tough spot. I was all dolled up in my winter finery. Insulated overalls, 3 layers of sweat shirts, a vest, ratty old camouflage coat and spiffy orange knit hat. It weighs in, with the steel toe boots and warm winter socks, at around 18 pounds. If fact, I think it puts me at what I used to weigh, before retiring and working my hinder off.Boots

But, being the dutiful husband, I’ve realized long ago, one needs to compromise every now and then, if you expect to keep getting coffee served precisely at 1PM, and a few side benefits. I mean spicy chocolate dollops, not what you’re thinking. Well, sometimes the other things.

So, I slogged along, trying to not make eye contact with the diverse selection of humanity that Walmart always provides, at no extra cost. As mentioned above, Southern Kansas is under an ice storm warning. I was fully expecting to see the chip and frozen pizza shelves emptied and the front check outs with lines of desperate shoppers with 1000 yard stares.

Nope, the store wasn’t even much populated, but then I remembered that it was 1PM on a Friday and most people are still at work. The goal then was to be out of the store before the zombie apocalypse arrived.

We wandered the store, the wife perfectly content, I following along, wondering why 18 pounds of clothes felt like a struggle. We paused at a intersection, the Mrs perkily asked where I would like to go. To the pharmacy, I said. Why? To see if they are handing out free samples of mind numbing narcotics. She frowned and plodded on.

Finally, we parked ourselves on the bench near the desk for the tire shop. This is also the back door to Walmart. Only opens from the outside. As I sat there, I noticed a curious phenomenon. I counted more than a half dozen men coming in through that door. They would disappear into the store and as men are wont to do, shop quickly and come back to the desk of the tire shop, have the tire lady ring them up and out the door they went. So, guys, perhaps anti social shut ins like myself, choose to do their shopping and slip out the back door without hassling with all the hubbub and chaos at the front check outs. Being I don’t get out much, this was news to me. Guys being guys, I would assume if Walmart offered a drive through window for shopping, it would be dude central with a line going around the block. I saluted my Spark-Plugtaciturn brothers for their cutting to the chase and eliminating the unneeded social interaction with just about everybody but the tire lady at the back of the store. They did have to beg to be let out the in-only door, but as I said, we all have to compromise at times.
The wife cajoled me into buying a spark plug that was close to what I wanted. I knew it would work and since I was gracious enough to be talked into a spark plug that was close enough, she didn’t squawk much when I dragged her to the bench and told her we sit now and be quiet. I have a feeling coffee might be a bit late tomorrow. And, if we get all the ice they are talking about, in the dark too. Our compromise with Mr Generator, who wants to sit this one out.Sweet-Pea-and-Boots