Camo Reflection

I really need to pull myself together. 

There I was, a few nights ago, at the Sarasota WalMart looking for light bulbs.  I had slipped into my cynical me, condesceding toward all things redneck. 

That particular version of me features a lot of head shaking and eye rolling.  At trucks, sub-woofing their way through the parking lot and nearly running down people in their pajamas and self-propelled shopping carts. At missing teeth. Muffin tops. At gaudy tattoos on backs and legs and necks.  Camo.

That me also specializes in mumbling things like "oh yeah, that's a nice outfit."  Or seeing an especially odd couple and saying "mm hmm," as I walk past them, which only I can traslate into "you two are perfect for each other."  I once said, "hot dogs are that way, lady."

The great thing about this attitude is that it reinforces that I am so above everyone else.  Never mind that I might be buying Toasted Almond bars and windshield wipers.   That's just a coincidence. 

That night, I eventually found my way into the sporting goods department, where I was condescendingly thinking about how much rednecks love guns.  Man, those hillbillies and their shotguns.  

As I was looking into the case, I noticed a typical Walmart shopper - a man with a goatee in a white t-shirt, grey cotton sweat pants, and a camo baseball cap.   A little overweight; shabby.

I turned, sensing he was too close.  No one. 

And then I realized the painful and surprising truth - it was me.  

Man, I need to pull myself together. 

Until then, I'm going out to my truck and eating one of these Toasted Almonds.

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