|It really gives the world a certain sparkle.|
Wal*Mart: A Play in Two Acts
Disclaimer: This is a real account of the 20 or so minutes that I spent in a check out line this afternoon. I almost changed to a faster moving register, but I stayed where I was because once the show started, I couldn't stop watching. The dialog below is written exactly as it was spoken because honestly, the original is too good to edit. In short, a cashier needed something to be checked by a manager in order to finish a woman's transaction. The manager took his sweet time to get the message and come on over. The two women in line in front of me are having absolutely none of this and decided to make a massive scene. In Act Two, I discuss Act One with the equally amused cashier. In the following dialog, capital letters indicate yelling.
Location: Wal*Mart - checkout line
Cast of Characters:
Woman 1 (40something, overweight, wearing sweatpants, very unwashed hair that's pulled back in a scrunchie)
Woman 2 (also 40something, overweight, wearing leggings with footie handles, poorly
Woman 1: WE NEED A MANAGAH OR SOMETHIN' OVER HERE. LET'S GO LET'S GO.
Woman 2: LIIIIITLE FASTER PLEASE. I GOT THINGS TO DO. I gotta clean the house and make dinner. I DON'T GOT ALL DAY HERE.
Woman 1: MY DEPENDS CAN ONLY HOLD SO MUCH. HAHAHAHAHAHAHA
Woman 2: THAT'S IT! HERE WE GO. FINALLY. (To cashier). See, that's all you need. You gotta yell to LET YOUR VOICE BE HEARD. HAHAHAAA
**Both women clap hands for the approaching manager
Manager sorts out the problem in a few seconds and the poor woman who was waiting the assistance clutches her bags, covers her face (which is the color of a tomato at this point) and practically sprints out of the store. Women 1 and 2 complete their transactions (making crude comments and laughing at one another all the while) and saunter out of the store as if other patrons weren't staring at them, gaping
Cashier: Sorry about the wait.
Me: No problem. That was...entertaining, at least.
Cashier: Yeah... Well, that's Wal*Mart for you.
Me: Tell me about it. Welcome home, right?
Cashier: Are you from around here?
Me: Yeah, this town. But college is in Boston, so coming back is always interesting
**Look of understanding is shared
Cashier: Got it. I can imagine...
|Tattoo for my bicep?|
On another note, I wish that I had crazy memory and stenographic skills. That way, I could remember and record every ludicrous conversation that I overhear. I think that stenographic memory would trump photographic memory any day.
|Rather unfortunately true.|