Vegas knows how to treat the ladies.
For this reason, even at the risk of spoiling the wife, I went to Wal-Mart on February 14th to get her a little something. And by “little something,” I mean a card. Normally, I avoid Wal-Mart at all costs, because I have an inherent fear of roving bands of razor-wielding Latinas. But on this particular occasion, it couldn’t be avoided. Not because of the greeting card search, but because of their selection of Buffalo Rock products. The most delicious soda available to the public consumer is Rasberry Ginger Ale. It’s so tasty that I don’t mind subjecting myself to public ridicule and justifiable questions about my sexuality in order to obtain it. Unfortunately, it’s difficult to find and pretty expensive. But sometimes no other soft drink will get the job done. It’s like the “A-Team” of carbonated beverages.
Arriving at Wal-Mart, I was unable to park within approximately 2.4 miles of the entrance. I waited in vain for about fifteen minutes for the shuttle to arrive, but none did. I even asked a few passersby if they knew the shuttle schedule, but I guess they couldn’t hear me. Undaunted and driven by my quest for the holy grail of all Buffalo Rock products, I began my trek and finally entered this monstrosity about an hour later. I could’ve done it quicker but I had to leave a trail of breadcrumbs in case my compass failed on the return journey. “Always be prepared,” that’s my motto.
I head first to the greeting card section, and so far so good. The Latin Kings are obviously perceptive enough to see that they don’t want any, and I don’t blame them. It’s apparent that I look like a man who has a rape siren, and isn’t afraid to use it. Unmolested, I am initially disappointed to see that the Valentine’s Day section of the greeting cards is decimated. Utterly decimated. I mean, locusts left more behind in Old Testament days. There are two cards left. The first one is a “singing card” that plays a Jewel song when you open it. I would identify the song but since they all sound identical that seems frivolous. I immediately smash this card under my foot in the name of all that is right with this world. Just over my left shoulder an angry lady wearing a “Jewel World Tour” shirt is saying something passive aggressive. I respond with, “I guess that card wasn’t ‘Meant for You,’ eh?” Because Jewel fans have no sense of humor, she does not laugh.
Then, as if fated by powers I do not understand, the last card calls out to me. (Figuratively). I open the card, and it says, “If our love were a garden, You would be my hoe.” BOOM. Perfection! If that card doesn’t get me some Valentine ass tonight, nothing will! If you’re reading this right now, I want this story to illustrate a maxim that will carry you far in life and will never, ever fail you. That maxim is this: Always, always, always wait until the very last minute to do something you must do or buy something you must buy. See, if you buy something earlier then when you have to, you might come across something even better, and where does that leave you? I’ll tell you where…springing for another 65 cents on a better Valentine’s Day card, that’s where. Not on my watch!
So far on this little journey, I’ve avoided being cut by a cholo, crushed the hopes and dreams of a Jewel fan, AND found the perfect greeting card for Mrs. Vegas. Would things keep going my way?