You know how some places are just a test of your disposition? Walmart is just such a place for me. In fact, any grocery store is. I hate grocery shopping with a purple passion. I hate not being able to find what I want. I hate the high prices. I hate the crowds of people pushing me. And pushing their carts into me. I hate the screaming kids, and their screaming parents screaming back. I know my husband feels the same way. We thought if we went late at night it wouldn’t be so bad. Wrong! It wasn’t really any better and to top it off, Walmart turns off the air conditioners at night around here. So we scratched that idea. I end up running through the store in my urge to just get the muck out, which irritates my husband because he doesn’t like to have to race to keep up with me.
I console myself with knowing I’m stocking up my cupboards – no longer old Mother Hubbard am I! Thank the good Lord for that!
I don’t talk to anyone and no one talks to me – except the check-out clerks. We know all of them, pretty much by name.
But the other day, 2 people decided to approach me. Me! Of all people! I know, it’s hard for me to believe it too!
The first lady nabbed me as I was reaching for the Miracle Whip. “Can you help me please?”
Now how am I supposed to resist a cry for help? She showed me a piece of paper with a list on it. “I’m supposed to find Italian Vinaigrette – do you know where that is? Is there even such a thing?”
Uhhh … Why yes. Yes I do and yes there is. I pointed it out to her, showed her all the brands of Italian dressing, we explained that any dressing that had vinegar as its based was considered a vinaigrette and joked that the if the ones who sent her on the mission didn’t like her choices, she should tell them to do their own shopping. We all laughed and went our respective ways.
The 2nd time happened as we were loading up the conveyor belt with our hunting and gathering. We hadn’t been in a while so it was a fairly big haul. I was trying to grab stuff out of the cart when I heard a little voice say, “Excuse me?” I looked up and there stood a little girl – well I say little because she was in her teens and petite – those things qualify as “little” to me. If I’m old enough to be your mother, you are automatically “little.” She held one of those already-cooked chicken things in her hands and said, “Would you mind if I went ahead of you? This is all I have … please?” Oh there was that please again! I was torn! She dares to cut in front of me?! The gall! She did the puppy dog eyes thing on me and I said, “Sure, go ahead!” I figured it would give us an extra minute to finish getting our stuff out of the cart and onto the belt, which it did.
Still. I know I don’t walk around Walmart with the friendliest face because I’m cranky just having to be there, yet these people approached me. It must have been a test of some kind. It had to be. I’m not sure I passed. If I did, I’m sure it was with barely a C. A C for cranky. *sigh*
I guess I need to work on that attitude thing.
So how was your weekend?