Saturday, April 02, 2005

Oh! The Things You Can See at Walmart...

The first time in days I've been out of the house. Old Mother Hubbard's cupboards were bare, so it was off to Wally-World for me and the boy.

I didn't do much more than shower and put cloths on before I headed out. My 18 yr old daughter (the hairdresser student) would have hyper ventilated had she seen the ensemble I tossed on. I was clean. My son was clean. That's all that mattered to me. That, and we desperately needed Trix (they're for kids and adults - but for some reason, not for rabbits - poor bastards).

Saturdays are hellish. Avoid Saturday afternoons. Everyone is in Walmart. Cart traffic makes the 101 in L.A. look like child's play! If its not a pissed off guy, sent on a wild goose chase for something his wife forgot - then its two sets of long lost friends...and what do you know...they've discovered each other right in front of the Trix. I'm waiting for a news story on cart rage.

Today's people-watching moment was in the 20 Items or Less Express Lane. The lady in front of me - her cart was stuffed full. I had a bag of paper plates, a box of Trix and a big bottle of Hershey's Chocolate Syrup. (would you believe that besides the cereal, the other items were business related?) The cashier explains the Express Lane policy - "Yeah, so, you're not busy." The lady says. I wanted to stare her down, make her feel extremely uncomfortable...but no. (People watching is much like a Jane Goodall expedition, or Star Trek - observe, but don't fuck with it.) And in the cart was a girl about 3 yrs old; her upper-lip coated in snot, holding an open can of Underwood Devilled Ham - and she's scooping out little bites with the end of her shoe string - popping the little morsals into her mouth.

Getting nauseated I turn to glance at the cart behind me. Another 3 yr old - a boy this time - barefoot, covered in filth (may have had blond hair; not sure), stuffing his dirty little mitts into a greasy bag of fries and popping them into his mouth. His "cart chauffeur" was a woman, wearing a men's tank top, and she had huge smelly-looking boobs. Certain one was about to flop out and hit my son in the head I directed him to talk to the Underwood-Devilled-Ham-Shoestring-eating girl.

If my hairdresser-student daughter could have seen what I saw - she would not have had such a cow over the terquoise Oklahoma City Community College sweatshirt, red & blue plaid sweat pants and floral flip-flop shoes. I was clean - I was stylin'.


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