So I'm in Wal Mart yesterday at the checkout, and my sister E calls me. I tell her, I can't talk now, sorry, I'm at the checkout. Actually it was a little more than just being at the checkout that was making it hard to talk. It was the complete psychos around me in that infernal place. I was there with K and he wanted to buy some air soft pellets. So I put them on the conveyor. Cashier Lady reads the bar code. It beeps, asking if buyer is over 18. (I'm standing directly in front of her, K isn't even around, he has gone to the bathroom.) She presses "no" and reads the bar code again. Beep. Beep. Beep. Beep. She looks at me.
"You know you have to be over 18 to buy these."
What?
"Yes, I know." I'm standing there, looking very over 40 and even if I looked only over 30, or even over 20, isn't that still over 18? Um, okay???
K returns. He scans the aisle containing all the National Enquirers and People magazines. He wants to have a conversation about the People magazine cover.
"Wow. Is Clay Aiken really gay?"
"I don't know."
"But it says he is. Is he really?"
"I don't know son. I don't care really. Please."
"But is he--"
"Son!"
I go to swipe my debit card and I see the nagging question on the screen. Was your cashier friendly today? I press the screen "no," not because Cashier Lady was mean but because she was an idiot and so that's the closest I could get to registering my opinion. I take my receipt, I gather up my things and start down the long hall to freedom from insanity and to my horror a 50-something overweight man walks by with his wife in tow - normal scene, except for he is wearing a white, muscle shirt (he possesses none, muscles that is) and he is presenting a new fashion statement. How? His arm is only in one hole. The other hole is twisted up along his back. (Yes, I turned around to see him going after seeing him coming because I couldn't believe my eyes.) After checking to see if he had some infirmity to cause him to wear his shirt like this, and finding no reason, I increase my footsteps towards the door.
"Get me out of here." I mutter under my breath.
Wal Mart is just not a good environment for me.
That's all folks
14 years ago
5 comments:
I've finally decided I would rather pay more than to have to go to Walmart. Ever. The parking alone can push me over the edge. Oh, the humanity!
Hey Lisa good to hear from you. You have a blog I can read? Let me know the location/name. I see you have Facebook but I don't do Facebook, a blog is enuf for me.
My blog is only a location (I truly am unable to keep it up) so that I can read and comment on others. Does that make me a blog vole?
Yes. You are a vole, a varmint, a blood-sucking vampire. Do me a favor--drop me an email b/c since the computer crashed I don't have your address anymore, unless it's still that rusty crudder address.
Oh my! I totally forgot about the muscle shirt guy! I told Z that there was something I was forgetting... I need to tell him about the muscle shirt guy!
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