Maxwell Strikes Again

You guys remember my car, Maxwell, yes? How he tried to kill me while simultaneously committing suicide? Well, I'm beginning think that Maxwell doesn't like me very much because he struck again today. Here's how it happened.

I was watching some basketball on TV when, suddenly, I realized I had to poop. I got up and walked over to the bathroom only to realize that there was no toilet paper! Welp, that settled that - I had to go to Walmart to buy some toilet paper. I also had a paycheck to deposit, so I decided to make an outing of it. I put on some pants and a coat, went out to my car and started him up. Maxwell hesitated a bit, but eventually we were on our way. I went to the bank first, then to Walmart. As I was getting back into my car I thought to myself, "I'm so freaking good at going to the store, especially when I get to use the self-checkout, because I go so fast! This was such a quick stop!" Well, as I was pulling out of the parking lot, Maxwell sputtered and died. Again. I didn't really know what to do. I was stuck in the left turn lane. I decided to pop the hood so people could see I wasn't just being a jerk and not moving, but rather that something was clearly wrong with my car and I needed help. Nobody stopped. I called my roommate, Ryan, and he came to help me out. We pushed (with the help of one other guy. One other guy. I was there for like ten minutes and only one person stopped to ask if I needed help. Brookings...people (Brookians? Brookinginians?) are jerks) Maxwell to the side of the road, and Ryan tried to give him a jump. That didn't help. I called my dad. He suggested I check the oil. Good thing, because there wasn't much oil. Conveniently, I was in a Walmart parking lot. Even more conveniently, I was right behind an Advance Auto Parts store. I picked the auto store as the best place to buy some oil. I bought two quarts, at the instruction of my dad, and poured the first one in. That didn't work. I poured the second quart in. That didn't work either. I called my dad again to tell him that oil was not the problem (though it probably would've been, eventually, since there was very little of it in my car). Ryan suggested we go ask the guys at Advance if they could look at it to figure out the problem. Pretty solid idea, so we tried that. Unfortunately, there were no mechanics in at that time, but the guy behind the counter suggested that maybe I was out of gas. If you remember, Maxwell's gas gauge is broken so I guess it was possible that I ran out of gas, but I have a system. I reset the odometer after filling up every time, and I don't let it get to 300 miles. I was at 252 miles, so I was close, but I still had a ways to go. But, I had tried all the other suggestions, so I figured I might as well try this one, too. The guy said I should buy the 5 gallon gas can because something with something else...I don't know. I trusted him, though. Of course, since the 5 gallon one is the biggest one, it's also the most complicated one. Ryan took me to go fill up the gas can, but I couldn't figure out how to put the cap on. It's a two part cap where the spout goes inside the cap, then the cap goes on. It wasn't actually that hard to figure out. However, figuring out how to get the gas from the can to my tank was incredibly hard to figure out. The instructions were something like: 1. Twist green ring to the right to unlock. 2. Pump the spout. 3. Twist green ring to the right again until it locks. I don't remember what 4 was because I didn't make it that far. The green ring would not lock. Step 3 was impossible. Eventually I yelled at the gas can, "Today suuuuuuuuucks!" Conveniently, someone was walking to their car, which was next to mine, at that exact moment and asked if I needed help with something. "Ummm, yeah, actually. Do you think you can figure out how this gas can works?" I wonder how stupid that guy thought I was at that time. However, he couldn't figure it out, either, so now he probably doesn't think I'm that stupid. Ryan eventually figured it out, we got the gas in my car, and I tried starting it. It started. It was gas the whole time. I drove to the gas station, filled up, and went home. It was 4:30. I had to work at 5:00. I DIDN'T HAVE TIME TO POOP. The only reason I drove anywhere was so that I could get toilet paper to poop, and I couldn't poop until I got done with work.

Maxwell's sleeping outside tonight.

Grocery Shopping

Patience is a virtue. That phrase is forever engraved in my mind, as I was a very impatient child. I think it's safe to say that I'm much more patient now, except for when it comes to grocery shopping. I don't mind grocery shopping, unless I go with my family, because then I know it will be at least an hour spent in the store. I don't understand how people can take that long to buy groceries, especially when they have a list. Usually, it only takes me about twenty minutes. Granted, I get less than twenty items, but I feel like, compared to the national average, that's a pretty impressive time. The only thing that slows me down is if I can't find something, there's a jillion people who are also grocery shopping at the time, or the cashier has the mental capacity of a fetus. Sadly, that last one is mildly common.

I went to Wal-Mart the other day (yes, I know. How could I go to Wal-Mart? My walk of shame is going from Wal-Mart to my car with bags of groceries) to get three things. That's it. Just three things - bread, spaghetti sauce, and ground beef. Do you know for how long I was gone? At least half an hour. Why? Well, I will tell you.

First, the parking. There was a good amount of people at Wal-Mart, so parking was a bit difficult, even for me. There is one trait I did not inherit from my father, and that is the trait of Russell Parking. Russell Parking, if you're wondering, is when one drives around the parking lot for as long as it takes to get a good spot. A first-four spot (the first four spots in each row) is considered a "good" spot. I, on the other hand, realize that the parking lot is close to capacity, and consider it a victory if I can find a spot in general. There's one thing that can thwart either strategy - idiot parking lot drivers. Not surprisingly, I encountered an idiot parking lot driver immediately upon entering the parking lot. I was driving up a row just looking for a spot, and the guy in front of me just stopped. "Oh, lucky guy, someone is pulling out of a spot and this guy's gonna take it," I thought. I mean, obviously that's what was happening. There's no other reason to stop. Well, pedestrians, I suppose, but whatever. There weren't any pedestrians. There also wasn't a guy backing out of a spot. This joker just stopped in the middle of the parking lot. Baffled, I sat in my car trying to fathom possible reasons for his stop. Then he started moving again. I didn't, though, because right after the guy in front of me moved, the cart guy was right there to collect carts. There were a lot of carts. As a former cart guy, I know it's important to not impede the movement of cars in the parking lot. It was clearly this guy's first day on the job, because he did not know this basic rule. He pulled out the carts in such a fashion that it took up the whole row of the parking lot, then left the train of carts there to go and gather the stragglers. Eventually, he gathered all of his carts and left, and I found a parking spot.

Once in the store, it honestly took me about two minutes to get my three things, which may not sound too impressive, but based on my observations, if there was a grocery shopping event in the Olympics, I would be vying for the gold medal every four years. I went to the checkout. I hate the self-checkouts because I don't trust them. I've used them twice, and they messed up both times. So, I went to the 20 items or less checkout. I think. Maybe it's ten or less - I really don't know. I do know that it wasn't two items or less, so I was fine. The cashier was an old lady, and very slow. The three people in front of me were also old, and also very slow. This did not sit well with me, as the two clowns in the parking lot had left me feeling very impatient. It was finally my turn to check out, and the total came to like $5.99 or something. It was definitely something and 99 cents. I said, "You can keep the penny," because I hate pennies. The cashier smiled and said, "No, you take it - you might need it," which I feel is a pretty accurate assumption of anyone who shops at Wal-Mart. Sadly, she was right - I probably will need that penny.