>Bitch, that is.
What could have me, the asthmatic respiratory therapist, jonesing for a Marlboro Ultralight? Why, a trip to fricken Wally World, of course.
One day I am going to get arrested in that place. One day I am going to be unable to restrain myself enough.
What is it about that store that makes people lose their manners and allow their inner trashiness to emerge?
Let’s start with the approach. The Approach should be capitalized because it was almost epic in its ability to get my blood boiling. Baby Zach is in his car seat, which is secured to the stroller. I am pushing him and John has the shopping cart and Evan behind me. We had all of 5 items. The only reason we had the cart was because one of those items was a case of Diet Mountain Dew, and 2 others were huge jugs of water. So…
Here we go. Approaching the register, when–vroooooooom–some lady comes barrelling past me with her overflowing shopping cart. If you have never shopped for a large amount, those full carts are heavy. And she came about 2 inches from ramming into my newborn son. So now I have to describe her. Huge teased hair. Jet black although there is no way that was her natural color. Muumuu with jeans underneath. Enough lipstick that it is gonna take some paint thinner to wash her face clean. Picture this:
Yep, that’s her. She almost ran over my baby. And I would’ve ended up in the clink if she had. Seriously.
So then comes the part where I actually am in line. Behind this lady who has 8 gallons of milk. I should’ve seen through it. You know those little dividers the have to keep your stuff seperate from the order before yours? Well, home girl had all of them in use. because she had to pay for her cigarettes and beer first with cash. The next order was for her groceries. They were seperate because they went on her food stamp card. Then there were 3 more orders: one for each WIC voucher she wanted to use, which are apparently processed like checks. So voucher A is for a gallon of milk and cheese, so it is one order, voucher B is for…oh, you get the drift. But oops! She forgot her cheese. Better call the manager and make him get it for her. And oops! She chose cereal that isn’t approved. Make the manager make another trip. I really didn’t realize one could do that! Next time I could just head straight to the checkout and make one of the employees do my shopping for me! While some poor lady waits behind me with a newborn who is surely pooping in his diaper and her 8-year-old who is begging for every type of candy in front of his face. We were literally in-line for 25 minutes. Seriously.
I don’t think I’ve done it here, but I have sworn off that place so many times. This time I mean it. Until we are out of something at 2 AM, at least.