It Leaves Nothing to the Imagination

While I may favor an overweight walrus with an eating disorder, I leave it to the imagination of others to determine the method, setting, and composition of sustenance that has placed me in this condition. Wandering about the aisles of Sam's Club on the weekends, however leaves no doubt as to how many others find themselves in a similar situation. Several of the female club members, draped in shapeless muumuus, wearing shiny metallic shoes and hair unkempt are accompanied by their down trodden, white-socked with brown-shoe wearing husbands (replete with a Members Only jacket, serving as reminder of a happier time before the neutering), who stand at the appropriate position of subservience; three steps back and to the left. While these goddesses, with a barrel of carbonated beverage in one hand and either a hotdog or slice of pizza in the other, bark out commands as to what ridiculously large portioned merchandise to bring back to the shopping cart for her inspection, these once manly husbands step and fetch to return with the items and quiet the beast. It is often at this point that the goods are surveyed, pondered, determined unacceptable, and returned to the shelves with mustard stains, a pepperoni oil slick, or a gob of nacho cheese. I write this not as a criticism of others, but as a fair warning: do not run into the store and mindlessly grab the product you had planned to purchase without careful inspection. You may return home only to find the remnants of fair food and stubby fingerprints adorning your newly purchased white bath towels.