Wine Glass Girls Daughters
Trip to Wal-Mart
December 2009
She’s back, on break from nursing school and she’s got a cute story that we know you will relate to…Enjoy!
My trip to Wal-Mart
So today, the day after Christmas, I thought myself daring and ventured out to the nippy streets of Lafayette.
I ALWAYS lock my door from the inside and today…I forgot to check to see if my keys were in my hand.
Thank goodness my best friend made me a bunch of spares or else I’d have frozen my fever off in the parking lot.
Once I got on the road I realizes I was in ghost town.
No really, I must have missed the “returns” traffic or something because I could have probably counted how many cars I saw out and about.
Anyway, I arrived at Wal-Mart, secure in a not-too-far-away but not-front-row parking spot and entered the store.
As soon as I entered, the check-your-receipt-for-big-items dude kept checking me out and I couldn’t figure out why…..until I got my cart and put my purse down, not only was there a huge, chunky, snotty piece of Kleenex stuck to my purse….my fly was TOTALLY open.
I mean open to the point where you could make out what color underwear I was sporting….embarrassed, I traveled towards Produce.
Now, there are several different types of shoppers. I like to think of myself as “normal;” however, here are some I beg to differ with:
The Cell Phone Talker: Who do you think you are, walking around, grocery shopping, sharing your whole entire baby daddy conversation with Lafayette’s Wal-Mart shoppers? Rude. Rude. Rude.
The Stressed Out Mom (who doesn’t pay attention to her kids until it’s too late): this one I’m more understanding of but really, if you have three chimichangas running around while you decide which paper towels are the cheapest and none of them speak English and they’re not even wearing shoes as the knock down a “Bounty” display…..come on mamacita.
The Talk to Myselfer: “Let’s see, I think it said I need shredded carrots, where would shredded carrots be in here? If I was a shredded carrot what aisle would I be on? Doesn’t anyone work here? This place is not stocked. And it’s stuffy.” Okay crazy…..think to yourself.
These are just a few of the ones I pick out, but my MOST favorite is the checkout line.
First of all cashiers: SMILE! I know, I know, it’s SO hard swiping things across that barcode-reader thingy and trying to decide which items go together in which bags but a little, tiny, minute smile would be nice every now and again. Or a simple, “Hello,” would work. I can’t stand it; however, when they ask questions they don’t really want an answer to. Like….“How has your day been?” One day I’ll muster the courage and make up some elaborate story about how my baby daddy got arrested and my car was repossessed and I was fired and my chirrens got kicked out of their daycare all in one day….I wonder what the look on their faces would be? Oh and my absolute favorite: “Did you find everything okay?” No, I couldn’t find the chili powder because you all move shit around every other time I am here and the bananas were on the baby table instead of the grand table and yada yada yada. They don’t care! And we know! So don’t ask!
Anyway, my favorite part of “checking out” is checking out people’s baskets.
The types of food read the person like a book (I bet)!
Frozen corndogs, Bud Light, Diet Coke and Hungry Man Dinners: the divorced fellow who never had to cook.
Ramen Noodles, Capri Sun, Frozen Jimmy Dean Breakfast Sandwiches: the college student. Duh.
Reduced Fat half and half, a bell pepper, an onion, whole wheat penne pasta, boneless, skinless chicken breast, $5.99,Yellowtail Chardonnay: The girl who’s man wants her to cook for him but she still needs to watch what SHE eats.
See, it’s a game. And so yeah, I’m judgmental, but I only judge them for like half a second. Then I look into my OWN basket and realize it reads: SINGLE. SINGLE. SINGLE.
Follow Me