Slave to Fashion

So last night I made a late-nite (notice the "hip" spelling) trip to Wally-World (notice the 'hip' name for megaconglomerate corporation). I used to hate WalMart because the one in my home town had a caramel corn popper right up front which gave the whole store the sickly sweet smell of death (think fragrance de 'caramel anesthesia'). Now, however, I love it--WalMart is like the United States of companies: bigger, better, with more variety and mullets per capita. Also, as I've often stated in the past, the greatest marriage of capitalism happened when they decided to take a McDonald's and put it in WalMart. That even beats out McChevron.

Anyway, yesterday at approximately 11:14 pm, I paid my respects to Mr. Walton's smiley-face-covered store. I was in search of two new additions to my wardrobe: scrubs and eyeglasses. As much as I appreciate WalMart, I don't go there that often, but it was the only place I could think of that would have those two items post-11 pm on a Tuesday evening. Sure enough, as I walked into the store the song "Scrubs" was playing over the in-store speakers (no lie). Coincidence? I think not. I picked out my Cougar-blue, unisex scrubs (perfect for the Halloween season) in no time and headed for the glasses section.

Now, my eyesight has been going bad for a little over a year now, but I refused to acknowledge that fact until last week I couldn't order Jamba Juice because I couldn't see the sign. So needless to say, I'm in the market for some glasses. I know that my prescription lies somewhere around -0.5 to -1.0 (who needs an optometrist?), so I thought I could just, you know, go buy a pair of $5 reading glasses, except with an opposite prescription. Little did I know that my precious WalMart discriminates against we near-sighted peoples of the world and only sells glasses with a positive prescription. Forget that! From now on I support Target ('hipply' pronounced Tar-jzay).