2004 PT Cruiser

(If this makes me seem judgmental...sorry...)

I whipped around the corner of the parking lot, anxious to park and venture into that great and spacious building that we call Wal Mart. Why anyone would shop elsewhere I just do NOT understand, this mart of Wal has everything that is good in life.
I finally find a parking space and pull in-eh, that's straight enough- slamming my 2004 PT Cruiser into park. My baby. My pride and joy. It practically glows from absolute perfection- turquoise, flames painted on the sides, and a convertible hood. I have my best mix CD in- One Direction and Justin Beibers best. Who says women over 40 can't have pleasure in these young specimens?
I grab my pink and green paisley purse from the passenger seat, pausing momentarily to stuff the receipts and tissues back in that always seem to want to explore the world whenever I move my bag. I'm wearing my favorite fuzzy, tweety bird ankle length pajama bottoms and my well worn crocs. As an afterthought, I grab my Mickey Mouse hoodie and throw it on. People make funny faces when I come without a bra on.
As I'm walking in, I decide to put my hair up. It's just gotten long enough to twist into a bun, so I gather up all my brown hair- raking my fingers through a few matted patches- and throw it all up there. In the effort to put it up, a crumpled tissue falls out of my bag. Darned thing, always trying to escape! But why wouldn't it. We are at the happiest place on earth.



This is a true story Marcy. Sorry if its too mean. She's the most interesting person I've come across as of late.