Maybe it's not quite essential

Bottomless trip ends at Walmart

Hanging in my stairwell for many a year is a nerdy little map of the United States -- the kind you color when you've been to a state. Much of my map is painted with pretty wax, save for the West Coast, some of the New England states, and one shining beacon in the top center.

This year's Lass-and-Lassie road trip began with Baxter and me throwing a suitcase and can of kibble into a sporty bantam-sized rental car and heading due north. We left Bentonville at 8:40 a.m. and checked in to our pet-friendly hotel in Fargo, N.D., at 8:40 p.m.

In my usual fashion, I began to unpack a few things, set my toiletries in the bathroom, hang my coat, tops and --

Pants. Where are my pants?

Bax wagged his tail and gave me a knowing look as if to say, "Right where you left them, Owner Dear. In the dryer. Eight hundred miles due south."

I sighed. I'm known for packing light, but this was carrying it a bit too far. As I scratched Baxter's ear, I noticed a sign behind him which read, "Forgot something? Our lobby has complimentary essentials for guests."

Well, by George, I forgot something, and I'm a guest. I headed to the lobby.

A stocky blonde, blue-eyed, middle-aged lady stood behind the counter. I smiled and approached her.

"Howdy there," I began, in what some might call a Southern accent. "I saw your sign about having complimentary items for guests who forgot to pack essentials."

"Ooooh, sure, ya betcha!" said Helga, in what some might call a barely understandable upper-Midwestern accent. "What do ya neeeed?"

"I need pants," I said, maintaining a straight face.

Helga stared blankly at me.

"Payyyints?"

"Paaaants. You know, like, bottoms, drawers, britches," I said, pulling on my blue jeans.

Helga blinked hard.

"I prefer a size 4, 33-inch length," I said, in all seriousness. "But I'll take a 32 if you've got it."

"Oh, g-geeeez," Helga stammered. "Ya seeee...I have rayyyzorblayyydes and toothpayyyste, but I don't have any payyyints. I meeean..."

I stared blankly at Helga.

"I meeean, EYE have payyyints..." Helga said.

I blinked hard.

"...on," she continued. "Eye have payyyints on. But I don't have payyyints, like extra payyyints, replacement payyyints."

"They're kind of essential, don't ya think?" I said, trying hard not to crack a smile.

"They are indeeeeeed, but seeeee --"

My poker face relented, and I smiled at Helga, who continued to look at me with great consternation.

"You know, my dog and I just drove from Bentonville, Arkansas, home of the world's largest retailer, all the way to Fargo, and it looks like my first excursion is going to be to the Walmart. Can you point me in the right direction?" I asked.

"You betcha, that way," Helga blinked and pointed.

Bax and I enjoyed the sights and sounds of Red River country. We learned that Fargonians are quite literal. We stayed away from wood chippers. And we colored in another state on our map.

And I got me a great souvenir. A new pair of payyyints.

NAN Our Town on 12/13/2018

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