Never Again! Really! I Mean It!
I've made it through to check out line and thank goodness they have installed a self -service checkout system so that I can avoid any contact with the cashiers. In my experience, the cashiers usually put the ugly icing on the nasty cake that is the Wal-Mart experience.So I'm on my way out with my daughter in the cart and I get a phone call. I've only purchased a couple of yogurt smoothies (my daughter likes them) so I'm surprised when as I start to walk through the door I'm detained by an old woman holding out her hand. Again, I'm on the phone having barely said hello when the old Wal-Mart woman shoves her open hand in front of me. I look her in the eye as I say, "Hello" to the caller on the phone. The old woman shoves her hand at my chest as if she wants me to give her my phone. To that I say, "What?"
-"Give me your receipt."
- Oh. Why didn't you say that instead of jabbing your hand at my chest?
-"Oh. I THOUGHT you had been here before and that you would KNOW what that meant."
- Well, you know you shouldn't assume because that only makes an ass out of U and me, and I'm not an ass.
And then she said as I was walking away and began talking on the phone.
-"Well you SOUND like one!"
I took a couple of strides and started to talk on the phone before it hit me that I'd been verbally assaulted by a...a...well, a Wal-Mart employee.
-WHAT did you say? Did you just say I "sounded like an ass?" (to the caller) I'll call you back.
What ensued was the classic example of primal preservation of status that happens with so many over-the-hill, wild pack dogs. I located the manager (futile) and explained the situation (futile). She feigned interest (typical) and escorted me to the old offender. When confronted by her manager with the facts as I'd presented them, she proceeded to deny my version and asserted that I had called HER an asshole while walking out of the store and that SHE started to look for a manager herself, but couldn't leave her post.
At this point, I was satisfied that I had good blog fodder. I explained to the thespian Wal-Mart crew that I hoped that they might work it out as I could no longer be bothered (was that a British accent?) and headed off to my vehicle with my daughter who seemed equally as bewildered.
Never again. Really. I mean it.
posted by Sean C. Mitchell @ 10:49 PM
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