It was a typical Sunday like most others and as many of you know Sunday is my only day off. After
Now you can judge me all you want but we shop at the Dollar Tree. I don't care how white trashy it is, they have some normal everyday things that are only a buck...hence the name. So we started our adventure there and bought a weeks worth of lunches for $3.00, then it was off to our local super market, Hannaford, you know to get the essentials beer, rolls, pie tins and whipped cream. Whoa, whoa, whoa, before you get all judgmental on me let me explain something.
I am a Cubmaster (as previously stated) and this Thursday I am going to be the subject of a mass amount of abuse at the hand of my Cub Scouts. You see we sold popcorn last year for our yearly fundraiser and the top sellers from each Den get to choose between silly stringing me, face painting me or pieing me in the face. So on Thursday I get to have one Scout face paint me, three silly string me and two are going to pie me. On top of that, each Scout who sold at least one item gets a strip of duct tape for each item they sold to duct tape me to the wall. Let's just say that we have anywhere from one strip of duct tape to 43 strips of duct tape.
|I shit you not.|
Myself, The Trophy and the Minions grabbed a cart and made a plan to get in and get the hell out as fast as we could, besides we only needed a few things. It was record time as we blew through Walmart and then the last leg of our adventure, the check out line. Come to find out everyone who was shopping there this afternoon decided to get in line at the same time and just like every normal family who is forced to shop at Walmart we picked what we thought was the shortest quickest line.
|Live better? Not if you stand in line behind some smelly bastard.|
Despite the white trash guy and his mom in the wheelchair stinking like last week's dirty diaper, we were at least four customers deep in line. As we were standing there we kept noticing the cashier was announcing almost everything each customer put on the belt. By the time we got to the front of the line we were thankful we didn't but anything embarrassing, as each item arrived at the electronic eye of the conveyor belt, the cashier picked it up and made some comment about it.
"Oh, green salsa? I'll be, I've never seen green salsa before!"
"Face paint? Is someone a clown?" (No you stupid toothless twit, I'm doing it for my Cub Scouts, plus I HATE clowns)
"Gum? Someone must have bad breath."
We paid for our items without saying a word to "Nosey Rosey" and departed the hellhole, post haste. As we loaded the Minions in the truck, The Trophy and I we bouncing thoughts off of each other about the cashier we just encountered.
What if we bought condoms? "Well, looks like someone is getting lucky tonight!"
What about KY Jelly? "Uh oh, looks like someone has a dryness problem."
Vagisil? "Hmmm, problems downstairs honey?"
Twelve pack of beer? "Whoa, you know they have meetings for people like you."
Oder Eaters? "You have the same problem my husband has I see."
Anti diarrheal medication? "Whoa! Someone has a case of the squirts tonight, good luck!"
You could almost call this an open letter to Walmart cashiers, but I don't subscribe into the whole "open letter" thing so it;s more of a common courtesy plea, we just want to pay for our shit and keep the pleasantries to "hello" and "thank you for shopping at Walmart." Other than that, shut the fuck up, please and thank you.