I was shopping at Walmart today. I know I should not spend my money there because of their treatment of employees/women/manufacturers, or whatever else I’m supposed to be angry about, but sometimes I need a one-shop-stop. With vegetable juice, boys underwear, Legos, a bike helmet, and cheese on my list, Walmart was the most obvious choice. Anyway, I was standing in the 20 items or less (fewer) line in front of an employee who was also shopping.
From behind us, I heard the whine of a motorized cart. There was a crash as a woman who looked like she might be in her late 70’s ran the cart into a big cardboard display of Skittles. “SHIT!” she barked. She had lanky, yellowy-white hair drooping to her shoulders and her skin was papery and gray. She backed the cart up at high speed and crashed into a beef jerky display. “SHIT!” she barked again. Then she looked up at me with crazy eyes (picture the Toon version of Judge Doom from ‘Who Framed Roger Rabbit”), held her hands up and shrugged her shoulders. “When you’re drunk, you’re drunk.” she stated.
I looked at the lady behind me. “Did she just say what I thought she said?” as the cart careened around the corner to the next line over. “She sure did!” the employee replied. We shared a laugh and shook our heads as the woman’s husband hollered, “Holly! Hol-LEEE! Move the cart up, Mama! Move the cart up! Back it up! Move it forward, Mama. Holly, WAKE UP!” With a series of fits and starts, Holly started making her toward the exit. “Shit!” we heard her say, as she nearly hit a tower of beach balls.
Seriously, I would not make this story up. Part of me was horrified, but most of me thought it was pretty awesome.