Little rooftop voices

21 09 2010

For some reason this popped into my mind while walking home from the gym.  When I lived in Tennessee, my dad and I would do this thing.  We would go to Wal-Mart, be-grudgingly.  Before they built the Kroger, it was the closet place around that sold organic milk.  Now the Wal-Mart clientele north of Memphis are a special breed of people.  One way of putting up with having to go to Wal-Mart was to play this game.  I don’t know who came up with it, me or him.  But when we would walk past someone in the parking lot, one of us would speak out of the side of our mouth, barely moving our lips [kinda in the same fashion as when one makes a trumpet sound with their mouth], and in a high-pitched, but quiet voice would say “Help, helllllp.  I’m up here.  Look, up here.  I’m stuck on the roof.  Help me!  Hellllllp meeeeee!”

The key was to have the vocalist avoid all eye contact, stare at the ground if possible, and have the other member watch for people’s reactions.  And every so often, we would get someone who would stop their shopping cart, crane their neck, and squint towards the distant roof of the Wal-Mart warehouse.  Maybe, just maybe, there was someone up there who really freakin’ wanted to get down.

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