OMG, I thought I'd lose my mind yesterday when, after waking from a quick nap (to make the time pass, I was so excited about getting T.P. in my Walmart order), I opened an email from the store advising that the one item out of stock: toilet paper, no substitutions, come pick up my order. I began shaking uncontrollably.
I called Nancy for levity after I imagined Amy prowling Walmart's aisles, coughing on anyone's cart who looked like hoarders.
"Don't cough on people!" she insisted. What about sneezing? "No sneezing, either."
No spewing at all but God, I was pissed. I can understand how women sold themselves during WWII for stockings and chocolate; I'd give almost anything for a single roll of 2-ply, but thankfully Nance talked me off the ledge.
The delivery gal, keeping her distance, asked with some trepidation, "You know one item was deleted?"
"Yes, isn't that silly," (thanks again, N.) I asked her about their stock, and she said the last delivery didn't even make it on to the shelves.
"Is Walmart rationing?"
"They didn't think they needed to, but they will now."
I told her about what I'd been considering, and she replied,
"My husband coughed in line, then said, Gee, maybe I shouldn't have taken that trip to China."
I laughed, "Some of us are like that," and didn't feel so bad after that.
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