I had just discussed it 5 minutes prior with my boss. I was in dire need of one - I wanted it so bad. I left the office, walked down the stairs and headed to the shopping center below my building in search of it. I knew the local grocery wouldn't have quite what I needed, but it would do the trick. Seconds after exiting my office - I saw it off in the distance - the real authentic thing - mingling with the Mexicans working in the sewers, and in the streets, and on construction sites. Could it really be true?
There was little choice to be made except to strap on my stilettos super-force, solar-powered speed shoes and my superhero red dress cape and fly off towards my target without any caution. I was in a dead sprint across the parking lot, past the trees and zipping through the street with my eye on the metallic mint green push-cart, equipped with a high-pitched bell prize. It was when I had reached that point that I became victorious. With sweat dripping down my face, legs trembling, a misplaced boob and a possible twisted ankle - I accepted my reward and thanked Alma for this wonderful opportunity.
I returned to my office, indulged in my victory and cooled down. The sweat dried and I sprayed myself with some body splash to refresh my professional appearance. Soon, I realized I was sweating again, only this time it wasn't dripping from my head or caused by such an intense exertion of energy - it was seeping from my pores, my mouth went numb, legs began to tremble again, a little feeling of light-headedness came over me and I heard a dog's growl from deep inside my stomach. Can someone pass the Tums, please?!
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