Something Stupid This Way Comes

This will be in the comedy show....but for those of you that miss it, here it is.


So Walmart and I have a relationship like Pamela and Tommy Lee, minus the kids and Hepatitis. Although, if you browse peopleofwalmart.com, there is a high likelihood that, given the time of day and the aisle I go down, hepatitis might find me. We both like to fook the other. You speak code, don't you? My apartment computer will not allow me to properly express myself, but you get the gist of it. I hope you do. If not, please discontinue reading. :)

That being said, I had to go to Walmart, driving by Albertson's mind you, to get some milk that my wife had forgotten to purchase. I can't play mind games at Albertson's. It isn't a battle of wit worth having. No one likes sparring with an equal. It isn't any fun. In order to dominate, you must pick on someone less capable. Hence, 99% of the employees at Walmart. It's like picking on a freshman as an upperclassman. Its a right of passage to belittle. Although I never really took advantage of that right growing up, I am making up for it in my later years.

The people at the customer service counter are about as bright as a burnt out aquarium bulb. For those of you that know me well, I am one that likes to break the monotony of life and provide variety in places that some people maybe overlook. For example, when people come to return an item or several items, the first thing they say to the person at the counter is "This product is (X) and I would like to return it." To me, that would get boring, constantly having to accommodate without really having the opportunity to say something like "I'm sorry, but we are know longer accepting summer clothes, and these look used." So, when I went in there, I was hoping to mix things up. Its like shaking dynamite. Never know what is gonna happen.

The first question always baffles me. "May I help you?" I always look up at the signage that says CUSTOMER SERVICE, wondering if I went to the right place if you had to ask me what I needed. I am not sure how many times I have thought of saying "no, thank you. I am good," and just loiter in the entrance into the customer service area. I had bigger fish to fry that evening. I went up to the pre-pubescent and said I had called ahead to get some canned ice and I was in a hurry to get it and go. "Pardon?" Canned ice. I spoke with (remember I know the manager's names now from having spoken to them many times in my attempts to work there) Reuben, and he told me to go to the customer service counter and get my canned ice. Where is my canned ice? I'm double parked. If this was an airport, I could be shot. I am risking my life because I NEED CANNED ICE! The girl was baffled, as she should be. She said she would see if she could find some for me right away, and left the counter. Her associate just stood there, no doubt still processing what just happened, having to shift through the bong-resin lined ganglia in her brain to formulate if in fact my request was legitimate. I don't know where the girl went. It seemed like an hour passed. I kept looking at my cell phone busily, as if I was being inconvenienced. Not having moved much, the 2nd associate was staring at me blankly like a dry erase board. I said to her, "I don't know why I even bothered calling ahead." Her facial expressions did not change. She just nodded, involuntarily since gravity did most of the work.

The original person came back, walkie talkie in hand. "OK, sir...what were you looking for?" I said canned ice, CANNED ICE...how hard is this," knowing full well this charade had to come to an end soon since the person on the other end of technology had to know that there was no such thing. I hear a gentleman's voice repeat the request and he said, "OK, hold on." The gal asked me to hold on and they were checking, not knowing that I was capable of reasoning that out all on my own. I again feigned impatience, checking my cell phone every 10 seconds. I told her I needed this ASAP for a recipe and they were really screwing with my timing. I bitched about incompetence and the necessity of having a secondary education, properly formed synapses and fully functioning gray matter, until I heard the walkie talkie bark out, "We don't have any canned ice." The gal says, again not knowing I can hear, "we don't have any." I said "Reuben told me you did, he told me he would set aside 2 cans of it and he said I could come here and pick it up. Are you telling me I am being lied to?" I stepped back to check the signage again and said, "am I not in the customer service section? I am not feeling the service. I am feeling taken advantage of and I AM IN A HURRY!"

At that point, she paraphrased everything I said into the walkie talkie, emphasizing that a manager had indicated they did, in fact, have canned ice and to continue to look for it. I huffed a bit and told the gal I was going to go move my car into a parking space and out of the fire lane and that when I returned , I expect to have my two cans of canned ice, DIET, here at the counter. The gal apologized, and said they would get it up ASAP. I told them, ala Arnold, "I'll be back."

I got in my car and left. I had my milk, which was the only reason I came in the first place. I am sure I created a little variety too. Variety is the spice of life, even if you are stupid.