Wal*Mart

Last night (Saturday, December 9) at about 9:30 p.m., Linda was quietly ironing a piece of cloth for a handbag she’s making.
“I gotta get a cordless iron,” she said.
“I guess the plate they sit on is what heats. They’re like my mother’s old iron. She used to heat it on the stove.”
“Well, I guess we gotta get it at Wal*Mart,” I said. “Add 30-45 minutes to a Weggers-trip and blow a gallon a’ gas.”
“That way my brother Jack could go completely ballistic and call me reprehensible for not ordering online, where I could have saved that puny amount he raised a stink over almost blowing that truck-sale.”
This morning (Sunday, December 10), I was donning a long-sleeved turtle-neck T-shirt.
I use them as long-underwear.
“You really need new turtle-necks,” Linda said.
“Well, last time I got them from Sierra Designs, and I kept their recent catalog, mainly for a web-address so I could search online.”
“But that’s not the same as shopping at a store, where at least you get to feel the material, and perhaps try them on.”
“So above all,” I said; “I gotta shop Wal*Mart. Add 30-45 minutes to a Weggers-trip and burn a gallon a’ gas.”
“That way Jack could go completely ballistic and call me reprehensible and aged for not shopping online, where I could have saved 500 (‘hundered’) smackaroos.”
“The Delawareans would weigh in with 89 bazilyun links where I could get T-shirts for peanuts. Sure to be included would be LL Bean, where I returned shirts before.”
“And if I did order online, my sister from Floridy would weigh in, saying ‘Wal*Mart has everything!’”
Uncle Rob had it pretty good: “I know all about it, Bobby.”
(“Generator; I can get ya a generator. Heavy-duty too. Only $40. Look for the faded blue Econoline in the Tops parking-lot along N. Cleenton in the slums.”)

(My brother-in-Boston almost blew a $35,000 truck-sale over a credit-insurance charge for $15.)