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You see them everywhere, comedians talk about them, it's become a household name.
I don't go there.
Oh, I've been there. I've picked up some fishing gear there, and it was a pretty good deal. But I don't go there all the time, don't go there to shop for food, clothes, or whatnots. Fishing gear is it - know what you want, get in, get out, seek and destroy. Yup, that's how I roll.
Well I went to Walmart yesterday.
If you read yesterday's blog you know I was home sick. Well, so was Handsome. In the afternoon I decided to get myself together and head on over to his house and watch a movie with him, misery loving company and all that. Well, I looked on Redbox.com to find a movie to bring, and I found one to bring ... and it was at the Redbox inside a nearby Walmart.
I told you they are everywhere!
Well, I knew they needed laundry detergent over at Handsome's house, so I figured I'd go over, get the movie, and pick up a little jug of laundry soap. Not a big one, I go to BJ's Food Warehouse for that. I get a bottle from BJ's that claims to wash 160 loads for just $17.99. Terrific!
I stopped by the Redbox in the entrance and got my movie, no problem, and then I moved into the store. I started wandering the aisles, going up #1, then #2, and finally #3. There, in aisle #3 I found the detergent. I walked over and saw the smaller bottles I was looking for, but right there on the top shelf was a huge bottle, just like the ones I get at BJ's. It even said "160 Loads" on the side. I looked down at the price marked on the shelf, below the bottle.
I said "Holy @#$%!"
I said it loud. I couldn't help it.
I quickly looked around. Not in any guilty reflex, oh no, I was looking to see if anyone was coming to correct this misprint! This couldn't be right! Before anyone could react, before any Walmart employees could jump out like dummies in a fun house and try to take me down, I grabbed the bottle and sprinted for the register. I dodged around some clothing racks, zipped around a family of five who was busy trying to keep the youngest of their number (one fat little booger if ever I saw one) from eating things right from the cart as they shopped, and made a break for the "12 Items or Less" register.
I was in line, trying to look normal and blend in with the crowd as my heart raced and I panted like an emphysemic septuagenarian half-way up a steep staircase. It didn't work.
A finger, or more accurately the long and well manicured nail at the end of the finger, was tapping my shoulder. I briefly considered making a break for the door, but I was already so out of breath I could barely stand up. I lowered my head in resignation and turned to face the music.
A tall, long-necked, beautifully made-up black woman stood before me, face set in a wide smile. The perfect fingernail left my shoulder and swung out, her long, slender arm fully extended, to indicate the next register over.
"I can take you over here, sir. You look like you're in a hurry!"
Moving like I was in a dream, I followed her to the register where she pleasantly conducted my transaction, prompting me to "Swipe your card now, please", and "Just press the green button now, sir." I took my detergent and wandered toward the exit in a daze, still half expecting a Walmart SWAT team to jump out at any second.
The next thing I knew I was out on the sidewalk with an $8.00 bottle of detergent that weighed half as much as my 9-year old son dragging down my right arm. I walked out into the parking lot and made it half-way to my Jeep before I slowly turned to face the building. One whispered word escaped my lips, in a tone full of wonder.
"Walmart ... "
I'm going back tonight!
Talk to you later!