Stop Yelling...I am Right HERE!

Yesterday was a bad day. I have a lot of stress going on in my life. Normally I would say that these types of emotions make it impossible to form a rational thought, therefore ignoring my blog. Yesterday was normal. I ignored. I wasn't sure if blogging was something that would help me sort out my thoughts causing me to write run-on sentences with little to no punctuation which would make people confused having to read random pointless rants and raves about God knows what wondering if it would ever end and looking for the first sharp object so that they could cut their eyes out for having read such mindless crap. Wait...

I love bashing Walmart. Back when Walmart first started, it resembled a Kmart. I wasn't around much to blog about Kmart, and it is rude to kick a dead horse. So, that leaves me with Walmart. I hate you Walmart. I hate you mostly because you hire people that ask rhetorical questions. It's like servers that ask if everything was OK. Even when you reply it wasn't and the food tasted like a pile of horse shit they simply apologize and do nothing. I hear over and over and over and over again, "did you find everything OK today" when I am checking out at Walmart. I always say yes. I say yes because I have a brain, can read English (as everything, EVERYTHING is pretty well marked) and I am male; a hunter/gatherer. I didn't come to shop. I came to conquer a gallon of milk and some maxi pads. I won. Check them, bag them and move on so I can mount them on my wall.

The other day, however, I was in a mood. The checker was....well, hired by Walmart. I won't say special or slow...just not employable by anybody BUT Walmart. He had a hard time fluctuating his voice, or making adjustments to volume based on my own proximity. I was a mere 25 inches away, yet he bellowed "DID YOU FIND EVERYTHING OK" as if I was across the room. I am not sure why I answered the way I did. It could have been that my inner ear was angry and ringing. It could have been that the vibrations of his yell were reminding me that my body fat percentage was too high. I don't know. But I told him no. I told him I didn't find everything OK. I told him I struggled. I was in pain because the leprechaun had stolen my pot of gold. I told him I followed the rainbow and the little bastard had my gold and was headed toward produce. The checker stared back at me as if I was Pamela Anderson and I had just asked him to make a sequel to her sex tape and the yacht was parked out front. "WHAT!?!?!?!" Not knowing what to do, I told him I did not find the pot of gold, trying to simplify my response to something he might understand. "WE DON'T HAVE THAT HERE!" No shit. The gal up front, Kathryn Hepburn, told me that the gold was on aisle 9. Weird.

He scanned the maxi pads and gave me a stupid grin; the look I used to give people when they were buying condoms. He knows what they are for, as do I. I was positive they were not for me. His look indicated the mind was trying to process who they were for. "ARE THESE FOR YOUR WIFE or GIRLFRIEND?" No, they are for my Appaloosa. I am raising lemmings and these are their beds, dumbshit. Just put them in the bag. I am surprised there wasn't another stupid question yelled at me after the milk. "SKIM MILK IS GOOD FOR YOU!" Yes, it is. Unlike your mother's breast milk that was tainted with crack as you sucked away, right? Sir, did you know that skim milk has more calcium than any other milk? "I LIKE WATERMELON JOLLY RAN..." Forget it.

I drive out of my way to go to Walmart. It is more entertaining and I am able to then write a few paragraphs describing how normal people can't get a job, but Walmart hires just about anyone. No, I am not applying.