The other day, I was happily buying sundries at Walmart (I want to “Save Money, Live Better”) and there was a morbidly obese woman in a motorized shopping cart registering several complaints with the manager. As I passed them, I suddenly experienced a feeling of déjà vu. You see, this was not the first time (or even second time) that I have come across this situation at Walmart. From as much as I can recall, I have seen no less than 4 obese women in expensive motorized carts (provided to them by Walmart) complaining about how Walmart has done them wrong. As I started to think about why I would necessarily see so many self-righteous obese women in one place, I remembered that I was not only at Walmart, but I also live in Georgia.
Don’t get me wrong – Georgia is a beautiful state with friendly people and Atlanta has the same conveniences as most larger cities, but every once in a while, something happens to remind me that I do indeed live in Georgia – where you may soon be able to carry your gun to church with you because you never know when God might need it.
Here’s a perfect example…a couple of Saturdays ago, my husband and I were driving back home after a round of golf and were stopped at a red light. Like most people, I look around casually to see what’s happening as I’m riding along and in a truck next to me, there was a guy wearing a sweater. Considering the fact that it was 93 degrees out at the time, it seemed odd, so I looked over again to see the strange design. To my dismay, my eyes were deceiving me – the man in the truck next to us was not wearing a sweater. As a matter of fact, he wasn’t wearing a shirt AT ALL. As the light changed to green, the man’s truck pulled away from the light revealing his “No Fat Chicks” bumper sticker and his “This truck has balls” balls hanging from the hitch. Without missing a beat, my husband turned to me and said, “Welcome to Georgia, babe”.