The Laxity Of The Masses

I went into Wal-Mart in workout clothes today. Sweaty workout clothes, since I had just left the gym.
   I was not ashamed.
   Time was, the only place I would go after a workout would be home, or to buy a lotto ticket at a convenience store. You can't win if you don't play, after all. I've been back home two months now, and after perusing my favorite train wrecks at People of Wal-Mart, I realized that I could go into that store soaking wet and nearly naked and I still wouldn't stand out very much. Plus, there's no one in Wal-Mart I care about enough to want to make a good impression with. Wearing sweaty workout clothes? Need groceries at the same time? Bada-bing, bada-boom, and Don's walking through the aisles of Wally World with dark sweat rings around his neck and under his arms, and probably trailing a musky, provocative odor behind. Just one more redneck in several enclosed acres full of them.
   It's freeing, this hewing to the lowest common denominator. I'm a fairly educated person - and a bit of a smarty-pants too - and you couldn't tell me apart from anyone else in there, ditchdigger or physicist or anything in between. That kind of bland anonymity is comforting, like a dirty NASCAR blanket thrown around my shoulders in my time of need. I'm just there to get my pickles and American cheese like everybody else.
   Next time, I'm thinking of wearing my Fishnet Speedo Jr. and lobster hat. Just to push the envelope and see how far I can take 'casual Friday' before someone's forced to call the cops.