Walmart Obsession

Wal-Mart Obsession

At Wal- Mart, the greeter spoke to everyone except me. She spoke to the awkwardly tall stick like woman in front of me, the short fat lady with a list full of foods to make her fatter, even those crazy teenagers behind me. They sort of scared me the way they looked, flamboyantly colored hair, boys with baggy jeans and punk rock shirts, and girls half dressed not descent enough to be in public. How could there mothers let them out of the house looking like that? I thought. Still I went out of my way to get close to her, thinking that she just hadn’t seen me, but the woman turned her head as if to say that I did not exist. I walked on past her and tried to remember what I’d come into the store to get. “Milk, no wait, eggs, no… that couldn’t be it either” I thought aloud to myself. Not remembering, I decided to casually stroll down each aisle to see if it would come back to me.

This had never happened to me before, I come to Wal-Mart every single day and they all welcome me by name. I then thought of the other people, who had so conveniently shoved their way past me at the front door, who seemed to be in a rush of some sort so I’d not let it bother me. “ORANGES!” I yell excitedly, that’s what I had come for, oranges. I looked around to see if there was anyone by chance staring at me, but shockingly they weren’t, they were all strolling down the other aisle minding their own business .Do they not see me standing here, I wonder.

I made my way back to the produce aisle to retrieve the bright orange fruit. Picking up the bag I glanced around wondering if a familiar face were near. Not seeing anyone I knew, I turned to leave but suddenly stopped short when I saw a young boy ahead of me, staring at me rather peculiarly. “Lady, Lady”, said the small voiced little boy. “How’d you get to be so purple? My momma bought me some purple sunscreen for playing in the pool , but it never turned me that dark purple before.” I blankly stared at the young boy for a while, as if he were just a figment of my imagination soon to go away, before I looked down at my hands in shock. They looked perfectly normal to me. Just then I ran for the bathroom in horror, throwing down my bag of oranges upon arrival. I glared at my reflection in the mirror, and, sure enough starting at my nose and then blossoming out to encompass my face was a deep plum hue.

It almost looked as if some invisible force had been choking me, making the blood go out of my head. I ran out of the store and to my doctors’ office. I went in through the back door hoping no one would notice my presence in the office. I crept into Dr. Jones’ office and waited for him to walk into the room. When he walked in and saw me, he jumped and said, “Man you scared me, I thought you were a robb…. Wait what is wrong with your face.” “I came to ask you the same thing,” I said. He slowly edged toward me and stared at my head using some plastic gloves, he moved my head gently around, looking in different areas. “Hmm… this is a phenomenon!” he exclaimed, “nothing seems to be wrong with you, you’re just turning purple.” I let out a little, slightly exhausted shriek of terror. Dr. Jones said, “Hold on now, I’ll run some tests to be sure so don’t you go worrying your head off so quick.” He took a cat scan and some other tests with weird names but his diagnosis still remained the same, “you’re just plain old turning purple, nothing is wrong with you.” Those words were like nails boring into my body.

My head began to hurt and I fell down… “Hello? Wake up, you’re okay.” “Whoa what?” I asked. “You fainted but you’ll be fine. Big news can do that to people”, Dr. Jones replied.
What big news? I asked in shock. You’re turning purple, for the mere sake of turning purple. I’ve never seen this before; it’s fairly rare, exclaimed Dr. Jones rather confused himself. . Randomly I scream, “ORANGES!!!” WHERE ARE MY ORANGES?” What oranges? Replies Dr. Jones, you didn’t have any oranges. “NO!” I said, “I remember, I was at Wal-Mart to buy some oranges for a game my friends and I made up when a little boy told me I was purple. They must be worried sick about me. How long have I been here? I ask. Trying to avoid the question he then asked me to tell him more about this game with oranges. I quickly get excited and start telling him of the wonderful game of “Orange Ball”. First you must gather the materials: Fresh oranges, a fork, and dedicated players. You then have to bend the fork so that you can easily capture the “Orange ball” then you grab the juiciest orange and run to the hallway. Its way to messy to play in your room I casually add in. Once you enter into the hallway three people start off just as in “Monkey in the Middle” the one with the orange tosses the orange in the air over the middle person (who is trying to catch it and get the person who threw it in the middle.) to the person opposite. The game continues until the Orange bursts completely open… hey wait a cotton picking minute I asked you a question doctor. I deserve an answer. So tell me, “how long have I been here and where exactly is here?” “Well…” says Dr. Jones hesitantly, “are you sure you are up for this?” He warns me as if I am some kind of purple nut or something. Yeah Doc, tell me how long and where the heck am I? He slowly begins, “well that’s hard to say, over the…”I cut him off almost in panic I scream, HOW LONG? SPIT IT OUT. WHERE AM I? Dr. Jones begins again this time with his hand on my nervously shaking shoulder. You have been a patient at Milledgeville Psychiatric Department. “WHAT!”I shriek “I’m in a nut house!” When did this happen? I ask shocked. He finally says it, the moment I have been awaiting for quite some time now, the same moment he was avoiding at all costs, “Two years.” As he starts telling me the story I cry.

So he continues to tell me the story of how for the past two years every day he has had to explain to me where I was and why I was here. The fact that I had just turned purple for the mere sake of turning purple had freaked me out more than he had thought. I never got better so it completely drove me insane over the years. I tried so many thins to get my self to turn back to my beautiful pecan tan color but nothing worked and Dr. Jones soon had reason to believe that I would become a threat to myself if he didn’t take me into custody that I would soon harm those around me. Two years everyday for two years, I have been in this nut house, going through why I was here every single day. I drove myself crazy, no wait it was that rude Wal- Mart greeter that drove me crazy. If she would’ve spoken to me as she usually did then none of this would have ever happened. The little boy, the brat that told me I was purple… maybe I had been purple all along and couldn’t see it. Maybe he was just joking, you know how evil little kids can be, and because he said it I saw it. I don’t know maybe I was already crazy, anyone who loves Wal- mart that much to get upset over a greeter not speaking to her just has a serious problem.