i HATE my OTHER neighbor, too!!

Earlier today, after waiting an eternity in line, I finally made it to the Walmart cashier. I was just beginning to put my items on the belt, when the lady ahead of me dropped her very LAST item - Murphy's Oil Soap. It did not get on me, so I was fine. HOWEVER, apparently, dropping a bottle of floor cleaner - ON THE FLOOR - in Walmart is equivalent to a natural disaster. Everyone panics, children scream and cry, dogs wail, and the cashier gets on the PA system and sends out an emergency distress call. ("CODE RED IN AISLE 10! COOODE RED, PEOPLE!") No joke, they made me gather my stuff and find ANOTHER lane, as they HAAAD to close that one down - IMMEDIATELY! (Apparently, someone could have died or something.)

Anyway, upon reloading my half-emptied cart, I discover another aisle open - twenty lanes down - Have I mentioned I am having a child in NINE days?! - with three people in front of me. NATURALLY, their carts are overflowing. I do not even roll my eyes, as this is my luck. I try to remain positive and step up behind the last couple. As I do, my pregnancy senses kick in. The gentleman in front of me has not had a shower. (I would say in the past week.) I roll my cart back a few feet, until I find fresh air. (As Walmart is my version of hell, time seems to stop. Literally, I can see my watch ticking backwards.) As I stand there and wait - AGAIN - the cashier literally just walks away. She was in the middle of scanning the lady in front of the unbathed man and just - poof! Now, I am starting to get irritated. The calm, cool, and collected 38 week pregnant lady is beginning to disappear, and the highly irrational, having ZERO patience or tolerance, psychopath is surfacing. I realize my heart rate is starting to increase, and I am getting hot - like really, REALLY hot! (My mother has seen some of the "fun" hot flashes I have experienced this last month of pregnancy. She came by the house one day to find me half naked, standing in front of my bedroom fan, sweat pouring down my face, while having trouble breathing. What was I doing you ask? Just trying to brush my teeth. Ugh!) I realize I have on a light jacket and frantically strip it off. (That barely makes a difference.) I look down at myself and determine there is nothing left to take off, as I only have on jeans and a t-shirt. Then it hits me - I am in Walmart - in Southeastern Kentucky! There are plenty more acceptable items to remove, according to at least 98% - maybe 99% - of the patrons. So, I offend 1%?? Who the eff cares?! (I am that 1% EVERY.SINGLE.TIME.I.ENTER.THIS.SHIT.HOLE! Tis about time someone else feels my pain!) Fortunately, though, I get it under control. I down the bottle of water in my purse, my heart rate decreases, and I start to feel normal. ("Normal.")

During all this, the line has shortened, and the couple directly in front of me step up. (I do not move, as I am thrilled there is now even MORE distance between me and the guy who does not own deodorant.) They begin laughing and chit chatting away with the cashier lady. (She must have returned. I still hate her, though.) All of a sudden the man wobbles on his cane - Oh, yeah. He has a cane. I am not a horrible person, though. He STILL reeks! - and grabs his chest. I am *thinking* (did NOT voice), "SERIOUSLY?! This CANNOT be happening to me?!?!" (I know, I know - "to me" - whatever. I am having a bad day, okay?!) I immediately go into Dr. Gardner mode. I note how far the pharmacy is located, where I know they will have sublingual nitroglycerin. I then observe the man, while going through an entire litany of education in about three seconds. (What side is he grabbing, or is the pain symmetrical? Is his face drooping? Can he breathe?) Then it hits me! SHIT! NOT ONLY AM I GOING TO HAVE TO PERFORM CPR ON A MAN THAT MAKES ME *STOP* BREATHING, I AM GOING TO HAVE TO FIGURE OUT HOW TO DO IT WITH THIS HIPPO BELLY! I step around my cart, to the sounds of his wife and cashier absolutely losing it! The man, completely unaware, gathers his composure and says, "What? My cane just slid, and it scared me." (I.HATE.THIS.MAN!!) For the next five minutes, I have to listen to his wife and the cashier berate him for scaring them, how they thought he was dying, etc and so forth. All the while, I am going into labor behind them. (Naturally, they do not even notice.)

At this point, my head is about to explode! I have been reminded - 37 TIMES - that I LOATHE this place and the people in it! My bladder is so full that it starts to spasm, and I am forced to half crouch over my cart. (I begin to search my mind for a person to blame and hate for my current predicament.) As I am praying that God gets me out of this place, the couple finishes up and leaves. The cashier greets me. (Shocking! Normally, I am the one that has to address them, first.) She proceeds to ring me up. As she places the first set of items in the bag, she comments on how she hates the gray plastic bags, as they are "really no better than the white." I am thinking, "I do not give a damn WHAT color they are! I just want them to get my groceries home!" Before I can respond (thank God for that), she notices the massive, apocalyptic stock piling of food for Riley Mac on the belt. She makes some HILARIOUS (*SARCASM ALERT*) comment about it. I explain that I am having a baby in a week, I have a toddler at home, and I do NOT plan on returning to this place until 2013! She makes the most exaggerated pause and asks, "Did you just say you you were due in ONE WEEK?!" ("WHYYYYY ME?!" - Nancy Kerrigan)

I take a deep breath and say, "Yes, Ma'am. I am having this baby next Friday."

She steps to the side, so she can see around her counter. "WHAT?! YOU DO NOT EVEN *LOOK* PREGNANT?!" She then turns to the women behind me, whom I had not even noticed. "Did you hear what she just said?!" (Pah-lease, STOOOOP!)

The first woman says, "YES! I was just telling my sister!" Her sister then emerges from behind her. "She is due in a month and is TWICE as huge as you are!!" (Oooh, fabulous! Let us make all the pregnant women feel uncomfortable - more so than they already are!)

I do not even know what to say at this point. I am miserable. I know the other pregnant woman is, too (as well as hating me). I put my jacket back on and say, "Well, I certainly feel pregnant!"

The cashier continues talking, in pure astonishment, until she switches the conversation to her five week old grandchild. I, immediately, jump on this topic. (ANYTHING to keep the focus off me, my belly, and my groceries!) Within a few minutes, it takes a drastic turn. Her granddaughter has colic. The baby is on her "THIRD milk and will NOT stop crying!" The mother is miserable, as she can get nothing done. So, the cashier grandmother watches the baby, when she is not working. They have tried everything. The doctor has just written a prescription for formula that "COSTS $60 EACH CAN!" According to her, her daughter is not eligible for WIC, so they are going to have to come up with the money. She starts tearing up like mad, while the non-pregnant sister behind me tries to give her advice - which is all ridiculousness, in my opinion. Finally, I muster up enough energy to change my attitude for a few minutes and tell her who I am. I explain that our South store carries formula and handles all our WIC patients. I, also, tell her that I have never heard of a $60/can formula, but if she sent her daughter into South, I would make sure we figured out a way for them to get the formula the baby needed. (The tears really start to fall, then.) I assure her it is no big deal, just simply have one of the employees call me. She gets so emotional that, after finishing my transaction, she realizes she did not scan my last item. (I am NEVER getting out of this place!)

After transaction number two, I bolt for the door. While RUNNING to my truck, I decide that maybe I was supposed to end up in that woman's aisle, and that I need to see the bigger picture and not be a "sour puss." (My grandmother's favorite expression.) I was juuust starting to let some of the Walmart hatred go, when I spotted my truck. I see a lady loading groceries into her car, with her cart behind mine. I make a point to start my vehicle with the remote. She thinks someone is inside and quickly removes her cart from behind my truck. (I am pleased with her swift uptake.) I open my hatch and begin to load my stuff. Even though I had seven bags to one of hers, I finish first. (I even have time to walk my cart to the stall.) When I get back to my truck, she has finished loading groceries in her trunk and is now shoving them into her backseat. (Seriously, she only had like four bags! WTH?!) Despite the fact that there is NOT a vehicle parked on the other side of her car, she chose to load groceries into the side next to mine. She sees me, so I presume she will be polite and move aside, so that I may get into my truck. (Nada!) I politely smile and say, "Excuse me." She raises her head and gives me the "No Hablo Inglés" look. I try to recall how to say, "MOVE-O YOUR EFFIN ASS-O!" However, I quickly realize that would not only be racist, but incorrect. (The correct terminology is, "Mueva el culo puto!") I remind myself that I have NOTHING against this woman or her ethnicity. I am simply exhausted, about to urinate on myself, and am fully aware that I am on the edge of having a nervous breakdown! She must see it on my face, because she moves.

Once I get into my vehicle, I lock the doors, turn on the air, close my eyes, and sit there for a few minutes - trying to keep a lid on the insanity bubbling at the surface. At that moment, I realize EXACTLY who to blame for the past TWO hours of my life - JENN KFOURY! (THAT STUPID BITCH!) You see, as I pulled into Walmart's parking lot - DECADES AGO - I saw Jenn driving up another aisle. I sent her a text that read, "Just saw you pull in. How about you grocery shop for me, too, so I do not have to enter this hell hole?! :)" Her response, "Oh, hell no! We all have to suffer!" This Jenn character is "supposedly" my friend and neighbor and not only knows how much I DESPISE Walmart, but is fully aware that I am about to pop - both physically and mentally. (Talk about SELFISH and NARCISSISTIC!) I have, now, moved all my hatred for the day in her direction. She - CLEARLY - deserves it!