Poor Thing

I went to Wal-Mart and it was an adventure. I found cool things for the grandchildren for Valentine's Day. No rush since I can't see them today anyway. And pistachios were on sale so I got some. The lettuce was wilted, so I will wait and get some at Publix tomorrow. I had seven items in my cart, including a gallon of milk which was why I even bothered with a cart at all.

I went to the 20 OR LESS checkout since – as I said – I had only seven items. A woman in front of me was just mean and nasty. She might have been five foot tall, but maybe not. She was 81-years-old as she screamed several times. The gentleman right behind her saw her unloading her entire cart and moved to a different line.

I merely stood there. I really wasn't in any hurry and so it was no big deal – until she started with the screaming. "I can barely walk. I'm 81-years-old. I need to be here."

I was startled as I hadn't even given her my "mean mother look" and yet she was flailing her skinny little arms around and saying horrible things about South Carolina and loading more and more items onto the small counter and the cooler behind it. The woman who was already paying for her goods said, "But it's the express lane. For 20 items or less." This simply set off more screaming.

My Wal-Mart is a Super Center so it is rather large. In the southwest corner is the pet department. Mean Old Bat (MOB) had lots of individual packets of dog food and dog treats. In the northeast corner of the store is the produce department. MOB had some kale. And MOB had managed to walk all over the entire store to gather together all the myriad items that she was purchasing. I did not point this out. I stayed quiet and watched her shout at people coming into the store.

The cashier could reach the items that MOB placed on the counter, but the items on the cooler were out of her reach. MOB just watched her try to reach the stuff. The cashier was not much taller than MOB. So I stepped up and moved all the things from the cooler on to the counter so the cashier could reach them. The cashier thanked me. MOB said, "I don't thank anyone. I don't even thank God."

Apparently.

I made no comment to that either but by this time there was a line behind me. I turned to the woman behind, with two items in her cart, and said, "She seems angry." That woman said, "Well, you did a nice thing anyway." And again I didn't say what I wanted, which was that I did it for the cashier, not for MOB.

So the witch bought $118 and some change worth of groceries in the speed checkout lane. And she wanted to charge it. But she didn't know how to work the credit card slider thing because the picture was just too difficult for someone who is 81-years-old. The cashier helped her with that and then she signed. Nothing happened. We all waited, so I told MOB that she had to hit OK on the board. "Well, I can't remember everything, I'm 81-years-old."

Well, yes. My mother-in-law is 85 and has had a total knee replacement. She doesn't abuse the fast checkout lanes. My mother was 84 when she died and I never, ever saw her behave in such an egregious manner. When her leg bothered her, she walked slower. We couldn't even get her to park close to the doors because she had a new car and someone might ding the doors.

When it was my turn to get my seven items paid for I quietly said to the cashier, "I never said anything to her." And the cashier said, "She always acts like that when she comes in here."

And this MOB left the store, stupid and crippled and unable to function and got her parcels into her car, (apparently being 81-years-old was in no way affecting her driving) and drove home to her dogs who are the only nice things in South Carolina, according to MOB.

My grandchildren are in South Carolina, you old bat, and they are very nice. And may the force be with you. And if you ever get back on speaking terms with your God, your life might improve. And dear sweet Mother of God, stop being so crabby. Oh, and have a Happy Valentine's Day, sweetheart.