I left my company’s summer barbecue last night with a mild beer buzz, compliments of the free drinks tickets kindly provided by HR. Michael wanted to stop at Walmart on the way home to return some shelving he had bought for the basement.
Walmart gets a bad rap. True, interesting people work there and yes, there are issues with the corporation as a whole, but people…Walmart has EVERYTHING. I’m not kidding. Need an inflatable chair? Walmart. A 100 piece box of multi-colored paper clips? Walmart. The entire Scunci hair accessories line? Wal.Mart.
When Michael mentioned the trip I thought of three things I needed. Tampons, eye makeup remover and body wash. That’s it. Three things. Make a note of that.
The fluorescent lights stung my eyes and stirred up the fuzzy feeling in my head as we walked in the door. We exchanged the shelving and headed down the aisles to find my items and the few essentials Michael had put on his list.
By the time we reached the back of the store we had in our cart–in addition to my three items and his toiletries–paper towels, a DVD player, two CDs, two giant storage containers, a Hershey’s bar and a Kit Kat.
And then I found myself standing in front of the bathroom scales. One was out of the box, sitting on the floor taunting me. So I did the stupidest thing a girl can possibly do after consuming a barbecue dinner and multiple beers while wearing all her clothes and her shoes.
I got on the scale.
Cue meltdown. The scale said I was ten pounds heavier than I thought I was. Ten pounds! While trying to not to cry I started yelling at Michael. “I’m fat! Oh my god, I’m fat! Look at the scale! What the hell?!”
Michael, always the calm and rational one, rolled his eyes and said, “You are not fat. That scale was out of the package and probably broken.”
I whimpered and kicked it with my toe. And then I did the second stupidest thing a girl can do after consuming a barbecue dinner and drinking multiple beers while wearing all her clothes and her shoes.
I bought a scale.
This morning, fresh out of the shower and stark naked (gasp!), I got on the brand new scale. I was exactly where I thought I should be. Thank goodness.
Lesson of the day? Never go to Walmart after drinking. You will leave with a contraption that tells you how fat you are and with $120 less in your bank account.



16 comments
Comments feed for this article
August 9, 2007 at 11:42 am
clinkny
I understand you were tipsy but you broke two golden rules of Girldom: getting on the scale with your clothes/shoes on and owning a scale.
M’s scale is surely going to be making the trip from Queens to Manhattan when we move. And somehow it is going to find its way down the trash chute. Accidentally, of course.
August 9, 2007 at 11:51 am
sasharay
Oh poor Molly. Getting on a scale tipsy is such a no no. Hell I won’t even get on a scale after I’ve had breakfast!
P’s scale is broken… but now he wants to buy this SUPER accurate one to make SURE that it is correct. What no!!?!? I want to be able to say “oh the scale is off today! “
August 9, 2007 at 11:57 am
kwarterlifecrisis
Here’s a trick I learned- go to the gym first thing in the morning and THEN way yourself. I seriously lose like 1.5 pounds of sweat, but I tell myself that, yes, I really do weight that number.
And Wal-Mart…. A bit trashy? Yes. Have anything I could ever possibly need (minus designer shoes, of course)? Yes. I dated a guy who always said ‘if you can’t buy it at Wal-Mart or fix it with duct tape, then you really don’t need to have it.’ And I, too, always leave there with way more shit than I intended on buying. Damn those endcap displays!
August 9, 2007 at 12:41 pm
Sass
I think Target is worse because they have cuter stuff. We never get out of there without “extras”.
I have never bought a scale and I hope I never do. An ex-boyfriend had one and I was on it all.the.time. It was to the point where the number would seriously affect my mood (though, this morning at the gym when I weighed myself I must admit that my mood lightened once I saw the number was lower than I anticipated).
I’ve got enough issues as it is, I don’t need anything else playing games with my mind! ha ha.
August 9, 2007 at 1:01 pm
chasingliberty
ah the scale. i own one myself….but its digital. Somehow I like that better than the older analog types with the needle that swings back and forth. Its so arbitrary! Digital gives you the truth and honestly is my accountability tool. Dare I say…I almost depend on it? I know I know….the worst thing a girl could do…but its been working so far!
(I also never weigh myself right after eating or with any type of denim clothing on…haha)
August 9, 2007 at 1:02 pm
Kate
Once, I was in Walmart and saw an out-of-package scale on the floor. I don’t know why (no beer excuses for me that time) but I stepped on it – and laughed out loud. According to it, I weighed 119 pounds. That’s about 60 pounds low, in case you’re wondernig, and it was the best scale experience I’ve ever had.
Which is, I reckon, just another way of saying that Walmart scales are apparently junk.
Sorry I got the nice one and you got the mean one!
August 9, 2007 at 1:14 pm
bloggingbarbie
right there with clink, sasha, and KLC on the rules of girl-dom and weighing yourself.
and walmart? love. it has anything you could ever possibly need and more. i must say, that is one of the things i miss now that i live in the city.
this post def. sent me on a lil memorylane trip re: my small-town america hometown, where a SUPERwalmart resides. That store gave all the local highschoolers with nothing to do the ability to wreak havoc and be entertained by that glorious store, accessible 24 hours a day for anything and everything we need.
gosh, do i miss that place. (and NO, i’m not a hillbilly, thankyouverymuch.)
August 9, 2007 at 1:38 pm
Ashley
hahaha i can’t believe you caved and bought one. bad girl! (can i come over to use it?)
August 9, 2007 at 1:50 pm
almosthonest
Isn’t it funny how men can be so calm about these things….
August 9, 2007 at 3:06 pm
DG
There arent any Walmart’s in LA but I do the same exact thing at Target. Except NO scales! I learned the hard way that owning a scale is the equivalent of having a devil on your shoulder that yells at you “ms. mcfatty!!!” every time. BOOO!!!
August 9, 2007 at 3:55 pm
Emon
To almosthonest: Yes, we men are calm about these things…because we always wonder, sometimes deep into the night, “what the heck is the big deal?” Then again, don’t take the calmness at face value; that is probably our ‘oh sh**’ face trained from playing long hours of poker.
Oh no, that’s totally not me…I never played poker
August 9, 2007 at 10:21 pm
Tattler
Look on the bright side… you lost TEN POUNDS in, like, 12 hours. How often does that happen?!
August 10, 2007 at 2:07 am
...BeccaLynn
While getting on a scale when a smidgen of alcohol is in your system is definitely a no-no, going to Wal-Mart drunk is totally the worse sin. Right next to going to Wal-Mart hungry. Our bank accounts told us not to do that anymore, they were hurting far too badly.
Also, I like Tattler’s attitude. Answer? The only time that could ever happen is if you happen to lose a extremity.
August 10, 2007 at 10:25 am
Amber
Oh, don’t even get me started on Wal.Mart! My dad is its number one fan. We only have a few of them here in the UK, but luckily my parents vacation in Florida each summer, and I swear to God, my dad doesn’t buy ANYTHING all year, just so that he can buy everything he needs/doesn’t need but decides he wants in WalMart. He blames the exhange rate, which makes it all super-cheap: we just think he likes WalMart. A lot.
We’re going with them this year (two weeks on Monday – woo hoo!) and there’s a WalMart right opposite the house we’re renting. We’re not expecting to see my parents much AT ALL this trip.
August 10, 2007 at 10:57 pm
caitlynintherye
Oh man, my scale story comes from the fact that I have been doing crew for about 8 years now, and in college I coxed the mens team. My coach at one point thought it would be a great idea to weigh us in front of the entire team. Two girls getting weighed in front of about 24 guys… it was terrible.
If you’re even slightly over the 120 weight, they expect you to “drop” that extra weight before the race.
Ever since then I’ve tried my hardest not to weigh myself- instead I stare at the mirror way too much and scrutinize everything.
August 15, 2007 at 11:28 am
Joe
After a night out with friends, I, the DD, and my wife, who had a pretty good buzz going, went to WalMart. When we got to the car we had two collapsible camping chairs, a box of Whoppers, toilet paper (the reason we stopped), that red rope licorice stuff, and my wife had signed two petitions outside the front door. On the way home she broke down in tears because she imagined she had signed some sort of hunting petition. She had really signed something to get a particular bird on the Arizona protected species list.
Alcohol + WalMart = Good Times