Mouse in the House


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An old roommate recently told me a tragic tale involving mice, a cheap sleeping bag from Walmart and a lot of camping advice from a Walmart employee.

Based on Denise’s gchat status the other day (mentioning a sleeping bag) I felt compelled to query: “Are you going camping or something?”

Answer: “Um, in my room I am. I think maybe the mice we have were in my bed, and that upsets me greatly. So now I unroll my $7.00 sleeping bag from Walmart, right before bed, and when I wake up I roll it up again and put it in the car during the day.”

She has the worst luck. Recently she had a car accident and as she was filling out paperwork with the police… her car went up in flames. Her computer was inside.

“It’s kinda starting to become comical to me. I wasn’t laughing before, but as I tell it to people I’ve started to laugh.”

Commendable. Particularly if you are familiar with the typical inner rage of Denise.

“I mean– a sleeping bag. Really. Not only is it from Walmart, and cost $7.00– very comfy, by the way– but the man judged me when I bought it. I made the mistake of asking his help, as I wanted a summer warm-weather sleeping bag, nothing too thick. Big. Mistake.”

Of course, this is what happens when you get picky at Walmart.

The salesman proceed to tell Denise that “With camping, you never really know when the temperature will drop; so, you don’t want anything too light– especially when camping in the mountains.”

Now, if I in my sixth floor walk-up needed a sleeping bag… Well that might count as mountain camping; Denise, however, does not have such altitudinal problems. She attempted to explain this to the ever-s0-helpful Walmart employee, let us call him “Walt.”

Walt: “Well that’s too bad. Camping in the mountains is really a wonderful experience.”

Denise: “I’m sure it is, but that is not what it will be used for.”

Did it end there? No it most certainly did not. What kind of “Dear Life” entry would that be? We need more.

“Even so, you’ll want something to keep you warm down to thirty degrees.”

I imagine that at this point Denise was already getting close to dealing out a punch, but still she attempted for the high road: “I really don’t think that’s necessary. I just want a light summer sleeping bag.”

Walt: “Well you really should give camping a try.”

The time had come for full details.

Denise: “Mice have been in my bed and I don’t want to sleep under the covers anymore. That’s what I need it for– indoor sleeping.”

Walt: “Ah, but mice aren’t that bad. They’re cute and warm and fuzzy.”

And full of diseases.

Denise: “Not when they’re in my bed they’re not.”

Not to be dismissed, this stalwart Walmart employee suggested, “It sounds like all you really need are traps.”

How insightful.

“I have traps. All different kinds. I have poison. I have sonic noise emitters.”

It turns out that Walt is really against poison because it is really cruel.

Insight to Denise’s inner monologue: “Oh my GOD, am I really having this conversation? I just want a f*cking sleeping bag!”

Disgusted, Walt pointed to the seven dollar sleeping bags and said, “I guess those will do.”

Now correct me if I am wrong, but Walmart employees are not on commission– just something to note in relation to this whole bizarre exchange: This man is not actually having to sell anything per se, in the active sense of the word. He just feels strongly about mountain camping and the ethical treatment of disease and mayhem carrying rodents.

I imagine that Denise then stormed out of Walmart and spent much of the ride home cursing up a storm in her new car.

Sidenote: regard her new and only vaguely psychotic shoe storage system.

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