Saturday, October 16, 2010
People of Wal-Mart-Saturday morning @ 6 AM
I always go to Wal-Mart on Saturday, usually before sunrise. I try to avoid the People of Wal-Mart . I think I need to go a little earlier. I try to zip in and get my dozen routine things and be home by 7 am to listen to the same people calling C-SPAN. I make the store loop picking up Bo-Treats, coffee, ice tea, light bulbs etc.
I'm making good time, heading to the register that's actually open on the end of the store where I parked (it's Wal-Mart policy to only open up one register until the parking lot is full). Now, I have had back pain all week so I decide to skip the open register and zip back to the pharmacy dept. and get a tube of Equate brand Ben-Gay. The smallest tube they have is about twelve ounces; that's enough to grease the front end of an 88 Toyota 4-Runner ten times. I don't want to spend $5 on some crap that doesn't work anyway so I head back toward that empty register I spotted earlier. I now see the cigarette/snuff register has opened, but standing there is the lady who talks to herself. This Wal-Mart client shops every Saturday morning. I first ran into her a few months ago in the toothpaste aisle where she was talking to the Listerine. I by-pass this screwball and head toward the register I first lusted for.
I reach the other register and see a young lady with a cart full of Mountain-Dew twelve-packs. I sense a problem right away, the checker is waving for the manager (I guess the P.A. system isn't turned on til noon.) It seems she wants to get the 24-pack sale price applied to each pair of her 12-packs. Hyper-Mountain-Dew-Girl says she had called the store and they said it would be OK. Dew Girl is now doing jumping-jacks trying to wave down the manager (She then turns to me and tells me she's a Libra). They finally get the manager's attention and he starts to mosey on down to register #1. Now, the night shift manager is not too sharp (last week he was probably pushing the carts inside with the little trolley). The manager listens to her long tale, and then asks her who she spoke with. Of course she can't remember because that whole story is a crock. The manager gets out his calculator and is calculating how many 12 packs make up a 24 pack. At this point I bail out and head back to the snuff register.
The lady who talks to toothpaste is still there babbling to the cashier about computers in the classrooms. I push her cart away and start putting my stuff on the conveyor belt. She and the checkout lady get my message and I'm checked out in less than two minutes. I'm walking back across the store and I pass Dew Girl, who has finally checked out and saved five dollars on her caffeine score. I get out to my car and right next to me in handicapped parking is the think-out-loud lady talking to herself as she loads her car ( I guess talking to oneself is considered a handicap).
A week ago I went to Wal-mart and they were out of three pound Great-Value Arabica coffee. It never occurred to me that I could take three one pound cans to the register and and get them for the price of a three pound can. I'm thinking maybe I should go to Wal-mart at five AM, but it would probably be just a different cast of characters.
By the way, "How's The Family"!