I despise Walmart on a level that is really not healthy, it actually scares some people.  I truly believe they represent everything that is wrong with our country. They are the Death Star!  I will not shop there and I tell everyone I know that they are contributing to the downfall of America if they…

See…I told you it was creepy.  Anyone who knows me will tell you that I’d drive an extra 50 miles, I’d go without if it meant I had to go into a Walmart.

My daughter had her first prom this weekend.  She decided to go to the prom about 3 weeks out.  That means I’m instantly thrust into the find the dress frenzy. We shopped, tried on some dresses, laughed at a lot of dresses, and found the perfect dress.  But as things often go in the Ewens’s World, they did not have her size.  We ordered her dress and it was due to arrive Monday before the prom. Perfect!  Here’s what happens next…

There was a glitch and somehow (I love when people say that!) the ordered got cancelled.  So we had to reorder the dress, it would now arrive on Thursday.

The dress arrives and we try it on, but we don’t zip it up all the way.  The zipper seems to catch, it’s late and we don’t have time.

The night before the prom we try the dress on with the shoes and zip up the dress.  The zipper gets stuck and splits.  My daughter is trapped in the dress.  At this point she’s laying trapped in her dress on her bed and she says, “I’m just going to fall asleep and wake up with a different reality.”  She’s quiet funny.  We pop the zipper and free her from the dress.

I fix the zipper that night and after a Google search learn that zippers can be lubricated with a crayon.  I do that and let the dress sit overnight.

The next morning my daughter needs to get up for her ACT, so I wake her up at 5AM to try on the new “fixed by your mother” dress.  The zipper sticks again and the nightmare continues.  She leaves for her test, trusting that her mother will take care of everything.

I drop my other children off at swim practice and go to Michael’s for a new zipper. It’s important to mention that I have absolutely no sewing experience.  The entire time I’m wondering how the hell you sew a zipper into a dress, but I’m at Michael’s so I’ll find the zipper and find a way.

They have zippers, but SAS Fabric Super Store does.  I’m off to the Super Store.  That sounds impressive and my troubles should be solved.

I get to the Super Store and there are boxes, like large moving boxes, filled with zippers, it also smells funny, but that’s not important.  I look, no purple, but I do find 1 black zipper and one navy zipper.

You can’t even see the zipper, it will be fine.

At some point I’ve decided three things— it’s not a good idea to drink an entire bottle of water before driving frantically to find a zipper, you should fill up your gas tank when it gets to 1/4 and I will not be able to sew this zipper.  I need a professional.

I leave the Super Store, realize I have 45 miles until empty, and ignore my bladder.  I’m on my way to the seamstress that’s up the street from our house.  She’s done some work for me in the past.  I’ll plead my case and beg her to sew one of these hard-earned zippers into the dress.

I’m brilliant.  I will save the day.

The seamstress’s shop is, of course, packed with people that suddenly decided to make their pants into capris or a dress made for their granddaughter.  I take a deep breath, and when it’s my turn, I explain my story.

She is sweet, as always,  and tells me she will help.  “We need to see if I have a zipper.”

“I already bought zippers.”

“You did!  Wonderful!”  Again, I was brilliant.

“Are they…invisible zippers?”

What the hell is an invisible zipper?  She smiles at me, tells me my zippers were not going to work.  “I’ll go get the right zipper.  Where do I need to go?  I’ll go right now.”  I was not failing without a fight.

“The only place around here that carries invisible zippers is Walmart.”

Most people have no problem with Walmart let alone the crazy obsessive hatred I have for the cesspool of crap, but I digress.  I smile at her, still ignoring my bladder, and say, “Is there anywhere else I can get this zipper?”

“Not around here.  I can have it done by 1:30 if you get me the zipper.”  There is truly nothing I will not do for my daughter.

I go to the gas station, go to the restroom, and drive to Walmart. Holding my breath (not really), I find the zipper section.  I buy the zipper, smile at the cashier (it’s not her fault she’s probably working full-time hours with part-time benefits), take it back to the seamstress and she fixes the dress.

My daughter looks gorgeous in her dress and she’s off the the prom.  I pass out, but before I slip into a coma I’m struck by the irony.

A beautiful dress saved by a Walmart zipper.

I’ve never really been a fan of irony and Walmart still (even though they had the invisible zipper) sucks.

That’s all from the laundry room.  Wake up from the nightmare.

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