CI. No I Ain’t. April 29, 2022
>driving Lyft
>I ain’t in the best of moods already
>I pull up to Baby WalMart
>we call it Baby WalMart because it is inexplicably smaller than the other three WalMarts in Tallahassee
>like, the size of 500 tennis courts instead of 500 football fields or some shit
>it’s smaller, is what I’m saying, like Greys are smaller whales
>still just the one open register, though
>so my passengers are Jack Sprat and his wife
>between the two of them they have managed to fit half of fuckin Baby WalMart into plastic bags
>they have a caravan of shopping carts bivouacking behind them
>I expect a pair of frantic parents to run up and ask if they’ve seen their boy, I mean, y’all don’t think we left him back at the Temple, did we?
>they mean to put all this shit in my car
>I don’t even think Mrs. Sprat by herself can fit in my fuckin car
>I say “Hey y’all, I don’t think all that’s gonna fit”
>Mrs. Sprat says “Sure it will” and tells Jack to open the trunk
>I don’t help
>I pace around like a middle-aged white man muttering to myself about how it won’t fit, it won’t fuckin FIT
>but I am far too much of a pussy to fight these people
>trunk is now full
>I have to stop Jack from sitting on the spoiler to crunch it down real good
>Mrs. Sprat alights her carriage
>Jack piles stuff on and about his lady love
>soon my shotgun seat is also full
>so full it sets off the seatbelt alarm
>by the end of the lading
>Jack was curled fetally behind my seat
>and I had a gallon of milk and a gallon of orange juice in my FUCKING LAP
>so off we fuckin go idgaf
>I am Milton Waddams in the basement
>my silence is stony
>Alas, inside my skull is a cavern
>a cavern filled brimming with
>”a thousand fiends, a thousand hissing snakes,
>”ten thousand swelling toads, as many urchins,”
>I am barely containing the dreaded cacophony
>and then this bitch adds a stop
>The Lyft app chimes to say we are now going to Piggly Wiggly
>Through gritted teeth, I say “We’re going to Piggly Wiggly?”
>Mrs. Sprat says “Yes, I just changed it”
>”Why?”
>”I need to purchase a few more items” she says, like I just asked Khufu why we gotta build a pyramid
>there is a pause
>and then I go all redneck
>accent turned up to 1000
>I say “I swear to God we ain’t going nowhere NEAR no Piggly Wiggly”
>Mrs. Sprat says “Excuse me?”
>”I said I ain’t FIXIN to go to no Piggly Wiggly. I ain’t sitting in this car piled up like ET in the dadgum closet for you to go wander around and purchase a few more items. Where the hell they gone fit, lady?”
>Mrs. Sprat winds up for some mischief, but Jack stops her
>Jack says it’s fine, says we can go home first and unload
>I say “you damn right we going home”
>and so we do, without another word
>one star
We have these. We call them Small-Marts.
Great story!! ⭐️