Soooo...I went to Walmart the other day. (Oh, I know! I KNOW!! I am fully aware that I should stop going, but it would essentially stop me from blogging.) We all recognize how much I LOATHE entering what I like to call the "Seventh Circle of Hell," but I honestly have zero choice. There is literally NO other place in this Godforsaken town that sells everything on my list, in ONE location. (True statement.) If I chose to go to another store, say Kroger, I would have (at a minimum) three unfulfilled items on my list. Meaning, after checking out at Kroger, I would have to drive across the street to go to Walmart. Do you have any idea what is WORSE than going to Walmart? (I realize this is a tough question, as there are very few things worse than a visit to Hell. Maybe working there??) I will tell you what is worse. Going to Walmart AFTER having already visited another store, realizing they do not have everything on your list and that you should have just gone to Walmart to begin with, as now you have to load your kids back into the vehicle - out, again - and in, again - once you have finished fulfilling your list at Walmart!! I already know I am going to have a miserable time in Lucifer's Lair, so I see no need in being pissed off before I have even set foot on the premises. (I, apparently, like my anger to fester and build, as I shop and hate everyone I encounter.)
So, like I was saying, I went to Walmart (having no other option). I should probably preface this blog by stating that this particular trip was the first time I had been out in public for six days. (Looking back, I should have stopped for ice cream or something fun, first.) The GI virus that had been circulating made a few stops at our house over the holidays, taking out me and both my girls. I was, finally, feeling semi-normal and up to the challenge of grocery shopping. Not only were we living like mice (eating whatever morsels we could find in the pantry and refrigerator), but I was hosting our annual New Year's Eve party in TWO days! I had to get groceries for my family to live off of, groceries for the party, decorations for the party, etc. The virus had taken up the days I had originally planned to accomplish such things, so I was down to the wire, trying not to vomit from being in a post-GI bug state and the realization that I was never going to have everything ready for my upcoming party.
Surprisingly, I parked (in the very FIRST spot!!), got in, checked everything off my list, and was waiting in line to pay in almost no time. Things were going so well. I was even half smiling! (I must have had a residual fever. I do not smile, nor make eye contact with anyone, in that place. Furthermore, smiling forces you to let your guard down. HUGE mistake!)
The moment I made it face to face with the cashier, trouble started. (WHY do they always have to take a break or change out shifts, when **I** step forward?? No, seriously, WHY?!?!) The cashier told me I would need to wait just a moment, as she was about to switch out with another cashier. I opened my mouth to throw the whole Nancy Kerrigan "WHY ME" tantrum, but then thought, "Wait a minute!?" I looked down at my cell phone and saw that it was 1:38p. That is right! Thirty-EIGHT minutes past the hour. (Anyone out there deduced what that means?) THE BITCH WAS ALMOST 10 MINUTES LATE, POTENTIALLY FORTY!! I CANNOT STAND TARDINESS! (Do not believe me? Ask any of my employees.)
As I stood there, I began to despise everything about the new cashier. (I mean, she was obviously going to be a worthless excuse of a cashier, if she could not even make it to her post on time.) I hated her Walmart vest more than the other employees' Walmart vests. I hated her throwback, 1970s, oversized eyeglasses. I hated her magnified, hippy eyes staring back at me through said glasses. I hated her blonde hair that was up in a ponytail on one side and I have no idea WHAT on the other. I hated her perky attitude. I hated her very existence. Then, she spoke to the other cashier. (WHAT SORT OF CHIPPER VOICE IS THAT?! I HAAAAAATE YOOUUUUUUUUUU!!!) I, immediately, decided that she had to be high. (No sober person appreciates her style and is that damn happy to work for Satan. That is, no one but freaks who are high!)
At that moment, I determined it would be in everyone's interest if I said nothing. I decided to use the fake smile and nod, pay, and get the eff out of there! My blood was boiling, I was starting to feel faint, and I just wanted to go home. Neither of us having spoken to the other, her smiling and high on life (and marijuana) and me biting my tongue so hard I could taste blood, she began to scan my items. Directly after scanning my first item, Miss Mary Jane herself said, "You will have to bear with me, they put me on the wrong side." (I presume she meant of the planet, as absolutely NOTHING had occurred to warrant such a comment.) I was at a complete loss. I did not know how to respond, so I just stared at her, as she continued to blissfully scan and bag my items.
There we were: Miss Angel Dust having a grand old time on planet Earth; me looking around, believing that I was being Punk'd. Then, she did it. Upon filling up the first bag, she turned the bag carousel AWAY from me! (How in the hell am I supposed to grab my stuff and load my cart, when you spin the damn carousel in the effin' opposite direction?!) I, truly, abhor the cashiers who pull this INSANE stunt! It makes NO sense! How is it efficient to have to fill and rotate the carousel five times, before the first bag reaches me?? It leaves me in a horrible position! I have to either 1) walk around the carousel (as if I am the cashier), start grabbing my bags, walk back around to load my cart, and then repeat eight times or 2) wait until the end and then frantically attempt to unload my bags, while the cashier starts bagging the NEXT customer's items! (ABSOLUTE ANARCHY!)
Unfortunately, before I could get my mind to stop spinning and decide the best course of action, Miss Snow White turned the carousel to start Bag 3, only to discover that particular caddy was empty. Rather than doing what I would have done MID-CUSTOMER and move onto Caddy 4, she STOPPED the entire process! I cannot remember what she said, as I was in the middle of having a stroke, but she completely dropped out of sight behind the counter and began searching for bag refills (taking another hit of whatever she was snorting). Eventually, she popped back up with a cardboard box full of unused bags. PAINSTAKINGLY, I watched her unload the bags, wrestle them into Caddy 3, do the whole cardboard box closure thing that I can never do and always end up with one of the four lids sticking straight up, drop back down to the floor to put the box away (pull the needle out of her arm), and then hop back up to continue scanning and bagging.
I remained standing there, in utter bewilderment, trying to process and ACCEPT that this was all actually happening. While doing so, and about three seconds before Miss Crystal Meth, I saw Caddy 5 - EMPTY!! I began to pray (probably out loud), "Oh, Dear GOD! Pah-LEASE! NOOO!!" Sure enough, Miss Foxy Moxy stopped the entire process for a SECOND time and refilled the bag caddy, this go around struggling to open the cardboard box she had previously hexed closed and laughing hysterically at the "hilarity" of the situation. (I DO NOT HAVE THE CREATIVITY TO MAKE THIS STUFF UP, PEOPLE!)
The next thing I remember was that I pulled out my gun and shot Miss Belladonna right between the eyes. Okay, fine. I did not shoot her, BUT ONLY BECAUSE I DID NOT HAVE MY GUN! I, honestly, do not know how our interaction ended. I must have blacked out, for the last thing I truly remember before getting into my vehicle was passing the Salvation Army Santa ringing his annoying sleigh bell outside the door while I shouted, "Christmas is OVER, Asshole, and you are NOT Santa!!" (The little girl walking into the store with her mother three feet away from me started to cry.)
