Wal-Mart
He drove around the parking lot for fifteen minutes looking for the perfect space. As he predicted it was a madhouse. Saturdays always were. Families buying their weekly supply of toilet paper. Students stocking up on bulk packages of ramen. The people who just feel the need to wander the aisles of the store in search of "targets of opportunity." This is how his father had put it when he was a kid. It wasn't on the list, but it was too much of a bargain not to buy. House didn't make a list. He rarely came to places like this, convinced this is what Sartre had in mind when he said, "Hell is other people."
Finally an SUV weighed down with three kids in soccer uniforms and what appeared to be a year's supply of Capri Sun pulled out of a desirable space. House's definition of desirable was close to the front, some shade and NOT a handicapped spot. He zipped in and applied the parking break.
Was it worth it? Did he want this game cartridge that badly? He thought about doing another round of Mario and pressed on. Damn him for not coming last night. Damn that damn Jack Daniels.
A kindly old lady in a blue vest smiled at him and nodded in greeting. "Can I help you?" She asked, clutching a sheaf of smiley face stickers.
"Games?" He asked.
"Well, we've got the toy department," She pointed to the left, "Or sporting goods," also to the left.
"Video games?" He clarified.
"Oh, past magazines, books, greeting cards and candy." All the way in the back of the store. "Have a wagon Hon." She pushed a massive grocery cart towards him. "Or would you like me to have one of the boys bring you the motorized cart?" She said in a low voice.
House was offended. That was the one thing he'd never do. Use that lame-assed motorized cart. On the other hand…he glanced the expanse of the store. No. He took the cart and hooked his cane over the handle. He had no intention of buying anything, except the game, when he came in, but even now as he glanced up and down the aisles, he saw things that he needed. Things he couldn't get at the small market on the corner.
He took the cart and muttered a small 'thanks' to the greeter. The first thing he did was grab an enormous bottle of Finesse. His current bottle of shampoo was so empty that it kept falling out of the wire contraption designed to hold things one would need in the shower. Right next to that was an eight-pack of Zest. That too went in the cart.
He pressed on, up the center aisle. A display seemingly built out of pallets and cardboard boxes showcased candy. Specifically Circus Peanuts. House fondled the bag of nearly squishy, orange sponges. A woman with three kids clinging to her basket also looked at them. "Does anyone still eat these things?" She asked him rhetorically.
He shook his head, "Did anyone ever?" They shared a small smile of amusement at the absurd. He moved closer to the shelf with the chocolate. He scanned for his favorites and treated himself to a ten-pack of Chunky with Raisins. It had been years. He threw some Hershey's Miniatures into the basket as well. As long as he was here…
He tried to get past the men's department, but was arrested by a rack with T-shirts. He realized that it might have been years since he had anything new. He quickly found three that he liked, in his size. Underwear was next. He found the boxer-briefs and swept his arm along the shelf and they fell right in. He also grabbed some flannel sleep-pants. For those cold, lonely nights. Lonely? Where did that come from? He pressed on.
He sniffed the air. He was nearly knocked out by a profusion of smells. Berry, vanilla, cinnamon. Candles and incense. Incense. He hadn't thought of that since high school when he used it to cover the smell of…he smiled. He found the traditional holders, a long wooden trough, decorated with a small flower where the stem went. He grabbed a box of sandalwood sticks. Both together were less than two dollars. A small price to pay for nostalgia.
Finally he made it to the video department. He went to the counter to ask the guy with the keys to fetch his game for him. It looked like a souk in Marrakech. Dozens of people stood around trying to get the attention of one of the blue-vested kids working the counter. He made his desire known and as he waited for his treasure to be delivered to him, he checked out the DVD display. He grabbed a couple of action movies and pitched them into the cart as well. As 'Hi, I'm Dave' rang up his game, he thought for a moment that there was a corona around the plastic covered box. It glinted in the harsh, fluorescent lights. He took his game and tucked it into his jacket pocket, close to his heart.
He soldiered on through the store towards the check-out stands at the front. He passed the hardware department and grabbed a tube of Liquid Nails. Some stuff around the house had become loose, and this was as good a remedy as any.
Through the cleaning products he found detergent, fabric softener and clever devices designed to keep his socks mated in the wash. If only those items worked for people. A small plastic disc that would keep people from drifting apart from each other during agitation.
Sundries were last, he had toothpaste, but it was probably time for a new brush. He threw a stick of Degree on top of the chocolate. Impulse caused him to toss Axe-Apollo in for good measure. He'd be fighting them off with all his good smells. He paused briefly in shaving cream and razors. Nothing in that aisle made it into the cart.
He got into a line that snaked through the groceries. Who bought the cake mixes, cans of green beans and tortillas at Wal-Mart? Who was so desperately out of food while shopping for bubble bath that they bought it here? Then he spied a can of chili. Okay, now he knew. People like him.
The girl at the register, 'Hi, I'm Ja'Netté', said, "Hi, did you find everything okay?" without enthusiasm as she scanned his purchases.
House nodded and tried to keep up with the bag-go-round of his new things, putting them all back in the cart as they wheeled around. He swiped his card and took forty-bucks back in cash. Saved him a trip to the ATM.
He had to move some stuff around in the trunk, but got everything to fit. As he slammed it shut, he glanced back at the guy who was waiting for his space. He made a big show of limping to his door and of easing his way into the driver's seat. Just to be perverse.
He started the car and pulled out of the space. Then it hit him. He had to schlep all that stuff into the house. His leg throbbed and he realized that it was time for a dose. He pulled onto the street and decided that he needed to rest-up before attempting it. He wanted a shot of caffeine and a slice of low-fat lemon-blueberry coffee cake.