I was a Wal-Mart CareBear Wannabe

it was the grand opening

it was a great honor

it was the third WalMart Supercenter to service

the greater metropolitan Fayetteville area

it was something the entire area really needed

 

and I was chosen

my temp agency entrusted me

with this awesome responsibility

 

at seven AM

at the grand opening of the new WalMart Supercenter

I would don a CareBear costume

head out onto the floor

and spend 12 happy hours

meeting, greeting and entertaining

kids of all ages

I was flushed with excitement at the very thought

told all my friends

couldn’t sleep for days

 

so imagine my disappointment

when I got the call the night before my

glamorous debut as a giant stuffed animal

 

seems CareBear corporate decided to send

one of their own people to fill the estimable shoes

of the lovable creature that means so much to so many-

they weren’t going to leave their image to chance

 

boy did they miss out!

 

If I had been their CareBear

I’d take my job seriously

I would comport myself with jovial avuncularity

I’d hop, skip and jump down aisle after aisle

of fine quality products

that wouldn’t dream of putting any cry-baby local merchants out of business

I’d direct eager customers to merchandise

crafted with pride in Third World countries

by people enjoying optimal working conditions

and I’d make it my mission in life to lead new WalMart Associates

to the very back of the store

through two warehouses

and into the locked storm cellar

in case any ecologically minded WalMart customer ever

asked where they could recycle their five hundred thousand

 

blue plastic sacks

 

and when I was through helping out with my political know-how

I’d romp gaily with other gargantuan corporate mascots

maybe make merry with a massive M&M

in the Disguise the Smell of Women’s Genitalia aisle

or perhaps perambulate with Mr. Peanut

in the Garden Poisoning section

 

my friends would have arrived en masse

cameras at the ready

eager to record this historic event

sure to inspire giggles for generations to come

 

my enemies would vie for snapshots, too

itching to collect evidence of my corporate sellout and

financial desperation

primed to sully my dignified reputation

and determined to make me look even more ridiculous

than I do performing poetry

with a purple paper mache penis

waving between my legs

 

but I’d leave my CareBear head on

and they couldn’t tell me from a six foot Vlasic pickle

I’d later develop an extreme allergic reaction

to the plastic lining of the CareBear head

I’d sue WalMart for CareBear abuse and worker’s compensation

a messy public trial would ensue

I’d settle out of court and be set for life

but they don’t know that yet, so first

I’d scamper back to the toy department

for an hour or two of jostling youngsters on my knee

before long the media-savvy tots

-conveniently misconstruing my innocent gestures-

Would band together in a class-action lawsuit

claiming attempted sexual molestation

by a perverted CareBear!

I’d slip into the bathroom and

ditch the costume in a diaper changing station

only to emerge as just another satisfied WalMart consumer

forever pushing that shopping cart through the

Save! Save! Save! Family Pak, Single Serving

Happy Meal, one size fits all, artificially-flavored and sweetened

aisles of life