To understand this article, you have to realize that I’m not real. This means when I’m working my shift in the toiletries department of my local Butte, Montana Walmart, people don’t pay attention to me. They walk through me in their haste to reach the rash creams. It means my inspirational quotes go unnoticed (My current favorites are “You can do anything you want, even if it’s impossible because you are special” and “Give up, loser.”) It means my Momma forgets I’m alive sometimes and only makes breakfast for my pet squirrels (squirrels are the best, except when they bury nuts in my hair). It means that I’m lonely. So how do I fix that? I tried emailing clay staff members, but most of them seemed slightly off put by my advances. In fact, one responded, “Please stop flirting with me. I don’t know who you are, and I’m beginning to feel catfished. I don’t even know who you are. Please just go away. Also you have no sense of TMI.” I responded by telling him about my latest foot rash. (If any of you want a picture, ask in the comments.) Another staff writer seemed interested in talking to me, so I asked her how her summer went. Her response? “It was great until you showed up.” I mean, that’s not even original, woman. Get your act together! I would have given up right there, but it isn’t in my blood. Sorry, that pun was horrible. Please have mercy on me. No, don’t go read some other article. I can treat you better than he can. But while we are on the topic of Shawn Mendes, I LOVE him. Have all of you seen his hair? It looks just a little bit greasy, but I love greasy hair. Plus, all his songs are angsty, and I love men who lack confidence. My OTP is Shawn and Carly Rae Jepson. She also lacks confidence — I mean, who else could create a hit song telling a dude to call her and modify it with a maybe? – but hey, her songs are catchy, so I like her. The only reason I know her songs is that the playlist we play at Walmart is the “Greatest hits of 2011.” And while I’m at Walmart, people never pay attention to whether I’m there or not. They’ll walk through me, as if I’m fake, even while I’m asking if they really need all that Coke when they should be on a diet. It’s the awkward moments like these when I can’t tell if these patrons are ignoring me because I’m imaginary or because I’m being horrible to them. Well, that’s all for this month.
Much love, your favorite columnist,
P.S. Comment below on who you think I am!