Tapped In

There's a guy at church who gave the children's story--his name is Wilf Wixwot.

I'm driving to the Walmart supercenter that's close as well as saving us about $20 to $30 a trip. Low prices and a big selection that spans stomach, body, and home make it a favorite and a throw back to college days even though other locals swear by Publix and Winn-Dixie. It's also impossible to switch markets once you have any clue how to get around one in particular. But Walmart also has Dora the Explorer mini frosted, sugar cookies by Lofthouse. They have Stacy's natural pita chips and classic hummus; both are wonderfully easy to find, end of chip aisle and by the deli respectively. They have big, flat freezers of lean turkey meat and barbecued chicken wings and vegetable potstickers. They have nectarines that haven't been bad yet ... I'm driving there, mouth weakly watering, stopped at a red light. There's a big, black lady with her cracked, bare foot, with chipped peach nail polish, propped up on the dash of her small, gray car. Cigarette smoke seems to have slightly, permanently clouded the window.

The light turns green. In a mile or so there's a billboard advertisement for a new sandwich at Church's chicken, a fast food chain in the south. It's for a chicken/biscuit sandwich. Like a KFC meal all in one.

At home I use nothing I just bought except two eggs to make lasagna for dinner and then some. Cary comes home, and I need a spatula to scoop out the cut portions. I pull open the drawer where that would be. I'm greeted by a huge cockroach balancing on the salad tongs. I scurry into Cary. We trap, pose, snap, and flush.

I spend the next night, after a fitful night of the crawlies, embarrassingly glued to the television for the 62nd Emmys and the second to last episode of True Blood, season three. The "Fresh Blood" epp (give Ken Tucker's great review a shot if you're a fan of the series) left me wanting more as usual, and disappointed and gushing in equal parts.

On September 12, a crappy two weeks away, the finale occurs,  and then I have to sink my fangs into the inferior but satiating WB Vampire Diaries sophomore and a half season. 30 Rock, Glee, and Dex, I need you now more than ever. Better keep some True Blood on tap just in case.

Source not known.