of underwear and skulking....

okay, so I know I am going to hell already...
Here I am in the sketchy hotel, right? It's the Nomad, by the way Dale... and things like the tap coming off in my hand as I got ready to shower this morning, the gnarled up bit of two by four holding the bed frame together, the broken chair... literally so broken one cannot sit in it as two of the legs are no longer attached... these are all things that make me giggle and want to stay here again because the owner is this sweet old Asian woman who keeps smiling even as she brings a better chair to my room saying "is okay now, is okay now!" the whole time.
And my brain is stuffed full after the seminar today, with all the different meds you can take for HIV, and what contraindications each carry, and what all the generic and brand names are, and the scientific methodology of how an HIV cell takes over the TD4 cell... on and on... so by the time I had dinner with my colleagues and stumbled back to my smelly room (which no amount of air freshener seems to help) I am ready to take break before I tackle putting grant stuff together before bed.
So off I go to the anti-christ Walmart (I reiterate: I am ALREADY going to hell) to look for a bra and de-stress a little. MIndless wandering through aisles of styles, whiles, and files....
So I am looking over a bra to see if I like it, and these feet appear in my lowered line of view.
"Hey is that you?" I hear a voice say, and the feet remain firmly in my vision.
I look up and this guy from our group is standing there with a few things in hand, staring at me as I grope this aubergine coloured bra, four or five more over my arm awaiting inspection.
"Uh, hi," I say, incapable of recalling his name. "What's up?"
He proceeds to start to chat about how he was bored in the room, didn't want to watch tv, thought he's come down to Wallyworldmart, and lo and behold, there I was as well!
"Um, yeah... I thought I would take a quick break before getting back to work." I say this as casually as I can, considering I am draped in lingerie. I just want him to go away so I can go about my relaxing wee bit of retail therapy. For this to be relaxing, I need to be alone, or at least not feeling like I am being watched.
A few more "SO I was bored" bits of chat and I finally manage to pull away and end the conversation with a breezy "see you in the morning!" and he gets the hint and leaves... or so I think.
I try on a few of the bras, none really work except the aubergine number, and I head back over to another part of the lingerie section to check out a couple more, am engrossed in the literature crowing about this new George line of tee-shirt bras, when from behind me I hear "Is that you?" and turn to see him, again, grinning and standing right behind me.
Now, I should explain, he is a very nice guy, not creepy really, but either really dense, or REALLY bored, or both.
I say a few mumbled words and flee further into the lingerie section, convinced he will not follow me. And I was right. He did not follow, but did seem to circle the area looking hopefully inward now and then, waiting, I figure, for me to finish shopping so I can visit with him over coffee.
So I start checking out socks, girdles, undershirts, underwear, all and any undergarments, all the while dodging about and ducking like some deranged limbo dancer in an effort to see a clear path to the cash register that would give me sufficient cover to pay and get to my car.
I swear I could hear the Mission Impossible theme song in the back of my mind.
Finally, aubergine bra in my clutches along with three Red Bulls, one polka dotted pair of knee high socks and two pairs stripey underwear, I skulk through handbags, costume jewelry and scarves to the check out, all the time peering around like a
nervous lemur on the lam as the girl rings up my purchases.
"Would you like any cash back?" she asks in a nasal tone.
"No, no, just these things," I stage whisper and punch my pin numbers in frantically.
I sprint out the door and to my car, stopping just long enough to sweep off the snow that has collected on it as I was inside shopping/skulking.
I made it back to the Nomad, stealthily made my way to my room where I now sit to tell you all my story.
I feel a little guilty. He just wanted to chat and I made like a hermit and... hermitted.
Sigh.
But I do really like the polkadotted socks.