The boy, Paul and I made a run at Wal-Mart two nights ago to pick up some boxes for moving. Paul, generally baffled by simple logistic tasks outside the lab, was unsure about how to approach the simple act of box-gathering, until I explained that it was just like a video game. “See? Look for the people in blue vests who are loading merchandise, ask them, and take their boxes.” Soon the method was abbreviated to “take the boxes,” and I had to remind him not to take the ones with stuff still inside.
A couple of novices whistled as we passed. “They’re doing a lot better than you,” noted a teenage girl to her father, who had two measly shampoo boxes in his possession. We kept passing the same woman in a floral print shirt who scowled at us, and I just figured she was a typical grumpy Wal-Mart shopper until Paul observed that we might have accidentally been taking her boxes. Oopsies :twisted:. Well, served her right for not properly guarding her stash.
After hauling our treasure home and assembling it, this is a sampling of what our whole apartment looked like:
Somewhere in the deeps lurks a critter.
A-ha!
We may not have our stuff totally in the boxes yet, but at least we have them. Take that, loser box-hunters who came to Wal-Mart after us! Eat our cardboard dust.
