How Many Walmarts Does It Take?

Today started off with a stop at Starbucks and a quest to replace a damaged bike. A bike that was bought, repaired, and thought to be a good shape turned out to be nothing more than a resold lemon.

Walmart Stop #1: Broken-beyond-repair bike is returned to the place it came from. The nice lady gives me no hassle and quickly refunds my money. We make the before-mentioned stop at Starbucks and pull up next to the Extreme Makeover Home Edition tour bus at a stoplight. We snap a picture with my phone and wonder if we could convince them to follow us to our house. We decide to stick to the task at hand... the bike.

Bike Shop Stop #2: The first bike shop stop of the day had occurred well before I had my first cup of coffee. This second stop was no better than the first one father and son went to earlier. We are amazed at bikes that are priced from $799-$4000. Crazy. We slip out the door unnoticed.

Walmart Stop #2: We spot a friend's dad and hurry on our way. The desired bike is not inside so we head out to the garden center. The sight takes my breath away. Rows and rows of bikes. Little bikes, big bikes. Mountain bikes, classic bikes. Every kind of bike in every kind of color except for, of course, the one we are trying to find. Discouraged, we move on.

We make a pit stop at a local Goodwill. We love Goodwill, but once you've seen one, you've seen them all. We buy nothing and have to wait in traffic to continue on our way. This pit stop was a bad idea.

Walmart Stop #3: See Walmart Stop #2 (minus the friend's dad part). Defeated, we head for home.

Although once we get home, I have a thought. Why I didn't think of this before is beyond me. I look online. We find the bike and see that another Walmart shows it in-stock. We debate for a few minutes and decide to go for it. The younger two opt to stay at home with the cat. Birthday boy and me hop in the car for yet another Walmart run.

Walmart Stop #4: We find the bike, but in another color. The red sticker tells me the bike has been marked down. It does look like it's been sitting out for a while. We peek under the red sticker to find another sticker that shows a lower price. The bike has been marked up, not down. We look around to find another faded sticker on a torn, water-logged bag (that use to hold the manual) that confirms a lower price. We set out to find somebody that will tell us exactly what this bike is being sold for.

Is anyone else around here tired of the word bike? (pick me! pick me!) This adventure is already into it's fifth hour. All I've had to eat is a doughnut and the earlier latte. Even my boy is starting to wonder if the bike is worth it.

No, I'm thinking. The bike is not worth it. But you are.

I'll save the rest of this story for my forthcoming letter to Bentonville, Arkansas, regarding misleading prices and associates who say they won't sell the bike until their department manager comes in on Monday. I'll be sure to point out, however, that the store manager was very helpful (even though we had to wait so long that our ice-cream cake practically thawed in the cart).

It's all good, though. Yes, we had to wait and yes, it was a shopper's nightmare, but we walked away with smiles. We didn't get the bike in the wrong color with the wrong price with the torn, water-logged bag missing the manual. We walked away with my boy pushing a bike in the right color with the right price with the intact bag complete with an owner's manual. It must of took some digging, but the manager was able to locate the very one he wanted hidden away on some far shelf in the back.

As usual, I had a thought as we were walking out.

It makes me think of God, I told Nick. Like how we want something specific and we ask Him for it, only to have to wait and get impatient and wonder why things never work out. We had to do a lot of searching today, but we stuck with it because I wanted you to have what you wanted for your birthday. In the end, you didn't get a broken bike or one that was different from what you originally saw, but you got a brand-spanking-new one that hasn't even been out on the display rack for people to mess with.

And nobody else's butt has sat on it, he added with a smile.

Exactly, I said. God wants to give us His best if only we will stick with it and not give up.

Silly? Maybe. But that thought cheered me after a whirlwind of a day. Even when we made it to the register and the bike would not ring up, I stayed calm. The boy had his bike and I had my hope. It was all good after that.