So, my wife and I went to Wal-Mart the other day...
Don't judge me! Wal-Mart is cheap, we have a kid now and it's the only place in town where you can get apples, a power tool and live goldfish all under one roof. Besides, where else can you be greeted by a toothless 87-year-old woman with a walker and an oxygen tank?
"Can I get you a cart, young man?"
"Um, I'm not sure you actually CAN. Besides, I have to work tomorrow so..."
Do you need an AARP card to get hired there? There's a guy in the electronics department "helping" me figure out the difference between two HD compatible DVD players when I know damn well that he has a 20-year-old VCR at home that's flashing 12:00!
I actually did go in there to look at power tools. I needed a drill, and someone told me that if I went with a cordless one I should get an 18 volt, blah, blah, blah. So the cordless 18 volters are pretty expensive - even for Wal-Mart. So I looked at everything on display, found a great, inexpensive drill with a cord, then tried to find it in a box as all display models are tied down and not for purchase. Well, the only drills I could find in boxes were cordless drills. So, I made the mistake of asking someone for help. The first person I asked, an older gentleman (SHOCK!), said that it wasn't his department, "But that man right there can help you." He pointed at someone who could have been his father. Anyway, as the geezer crept over to the display, we simply asked him where the boxed versions of the drills with cords were since none of them were available for purchase.
"Uh, I dunno."
"Do you have them in the back somewhere?"
"Nah, I think we're out."
"Are there more coming in?"
"Not sure - I just work weekends."
It was about that time that my wife saw me start to twitch like I was going to smack this guy. Recognizing the situation, she pulled me away, thanked the guy (for what I have no idea), and asked me if I wanted to play a game.
Have you ever played slug-bug as a kid? Ya know, you spot a VW Beetle on the road, yell, "SLUG-BUG ORANGE!" Then you punch the other person in the arm. Oh, and if you see a VW Van it's worth 2 punches, etc. So we have a Wal-Mart version of this game:
Someone wearing camouflage = 1 punch
Someone in NASCAR clothing = 1 punch
Guy with a mullet = 1 punch
Lady mullet = 2 punches
Kid with a rat tail = 2 punches
Kid in pajamas = 3 punches
Guy wearing mom jeans = well, you both drop the gloves and beat the crap out of THAT guy for committing the ultimate fashion faux pas!
Within 3 minutes we had to call a truce because our arms hurt too badly to push the cart!
So we decide to take our 12 items and check out. Let me set the scene: it's Sunday, 10:45, and the Broncos play at 11:00. There are honestly 200 people waiting in line to check out, and only 5 lanes open! OK, so we have less than 15 items, the self-checkout says, "15 items or less, please." Not a chance - that line is wrapping around the jewelry counter.
Guys, if you are buying jewelry for your woman at Wal-Mart, then she has permission to take whatever you have purchased there and shove it right up yer ass! Come on! That stuff is for 15-year-olds hoping to see boobies for the first time!
Also, there's always that one woman in the self-checkout line that takes the word "please" as a suggestion. You know the one I mean. She probably drives a Mercedes SUV, standing there in her designer sweats, talking on her cell phone, with 75 items spilling out of her cart. Then she decides this would be a good time to teach her 5-year-old daughter how to use the scanning machine. The machine says,"Please scan your first item." The little girl scans it, then skips around the cart to put in the bag - THERE'S NO TIME! Anyone who uses these self-scanners knows you have to quickly put the item in the bag - it even instructs you to do that. "Please put the item in the bag." Time is running out! "Please wait for cashier assistance." Son of a! God forbid the woman take over for the kid, because then it's time for the spoiled little monster to throw a fit on the floor!
OK, self checkout is out.
So we pick a lane - one of the first ones we see. I pull out my telescope and see the cashier only to witness him scan an item, look at that item, pick up a sheet of paper, look at the paper, look back at the item, pull his glasses down on his nose a little, look at the paper, then the item, then the paper, then finally drop the item in the bag. He literally does this with 5 straight items!
I start to twitch; we switch lanes.
So now I'm in a lane, and you know the lanes are staggered... Don't sit there and think, "No, I don't know - I shop at Target!" Screw you, they are staggered there as well - shut it! Anyway, our cashier is far up there and we finally pull parallel to the cashier in the lane next to us. She is a brittle old woman, like a shaky Nancy Reagan. She's slowly scanning things with her quivering little hands, "Oh my, this is heavy!" It's a loaf of bread...
So a younger employee (that could mean just about anything here, but we'll say she's in her 20's) comes up, taps Nancy Reagan on her shoulder and relieves her. Mind you, she didn't open another lane, just relieved the speed demon. Why open another lane? We can wait an hour to checkout - no problem!
The customer thanks the cashier for taking over, since Nancy was obviously in no hurry. Then the customer asks why there aren't any more lanes open when it's so busy. The cashier replied, "Well, out of the 120 people who applied to work here last month, only 8 passed their drug test."
In my little town of Castle Rock!
What the cashier failed to mention was, they test for Viagra, Lipitor, Cialis... The last thing you want is to walk into Wal-Mart and be greeted by an old geezer sporting wood!