June 3, 2012
Bad news yall: last night, Katie’s fish Spotty went belly-up. I mentioned earlier that I felt guilty for shopping at Walmart. Ironic because I’ve driven there four times in the past three days. I had to go back today to return the fish, because apparently you have to take the dead fish back in order to get a new one. I thought that was absolutely disgusting, but somehow everyone at Walmart seemed to be totally cool with the idea. I figured it would be better to get it over with sooner rather than later, so this morning I scooped the fish out of the bowl and dumped him back into the bag he came home in. Drove him back to Walmart, just me and this dead goldfish in my car. Waited in the customer service line—gingerly holding the bag away from me—for ten minutes (apparently Walmart is busy at 9 o’clock on Saturday mornings?). The woman at the desk told me I had to bring her the new live fish as well as the dead one in order to make the exchange. So I went back to the fish tanks and found an employee to help me. She paged someone else to come, but no one came. So I found someone else to help me, and he paged someone else to come too… but no one came. By then I was going to be late to work if I waited around any longer, so I left. Just me and poor Spotty in the car again. I stopped by the apartment to drop him off, because no way was I leaving him outside in the heat (or in my car, ugh). Wrote a note to Krissi apologizing for the dead fish on the kitchen counter, and left for the market just on time.