The other night, as I was lying in bed and feeling frustrated because I was more wide-awake than sleepy, I started to count the number of unusual or strange things that either have happened to me or I have witnessed while shopping at Walmart during the past 20-plus years.
I think I made it to number 73 before I finally dozed off.
The next morning, I couldn’t remember half of the incidents on that list, but I thought I would share some of the highlights from the ones I do remember, mainly to emphasize the old adage, “truth is stranger than fiction” (especially at Walmart!).
These are in no particular order, just randomly listed as they popped into my head.
1. My friend and I were shopping in the store one afternoon when we suddenly heard what sounded like a loud explosion. We, and most of the other customers, all froze in place, fearing the worst. But the employees continued to carry on with their work, totally unfazed. Another explosion followed, even louder than the first, sending several customers scurrying for the exit.
We finally approached one of the clerks, who calmly was arranging a display of storage containers, and asked him what was going on.
He shrugged and said, “Oh, we got in a shipment of these big balls that were over-inflated and now they keep exploding."
I couldn’t help but think about the poor customer who might have bought one of those balls before the store realized there was a problem, and then having it explode in the car during the drive home. That definitely would have been a “made for video” moment!
2. The pandemic also caused two memorable incidents that still stand out in my mind. The first was when my TV decided to breathe its last breath at the worst possible time. I mean, there wasn’t a whole lot else to during the pandemic other than watch TV. So I put on my mask, grabbed my gallon of hand sanitizer and headed to Walmart to buy a new TV.
Social distancing was being strictly enforced at that time – the aisles in the store all had arrows indicating in which direction shoppers had to move through them, one-way only, and the checkout lanes had marks on the floor where you had to stand to ensure there was plenty of germ-free space between the person in front of you and the one behind you.
I was pleased to find a 50-inch TV on sale, well within my price range, so I purchased it. The clerk loaded it onto a big flatbed cart, then started to walk away, leaving me standing there.
“Aren’t you going to take it out to my car for me?” I asked him.
He shook his head. “Sorry. I’m social distancing. You’re on your own.”
I think I must have bumped into every shelf and display rack in the store as I struggled to drag that darned TV out to my car, because the TV department in every Walmart is always located at the very rear of the store, about 100 miles from the front entrance.
When I reached my car, I opened the hatchback and then attempted to hoist the pool-table sized box into it. I failed…miserably…and continued to fail over and over again because I just couldn’t stretch my arms wide enough to grasp both sides of the box.
Several people gathered to watch me and cheer me on, but no one offered to help me. To them, I probably was the Covid equivalent of Typhoid Mary, especially since the vaccine hadn’t yet been approved. So they also kept their distance.
Finally, after about 10 attempts, I managed to heave the front end of the box up into the back of the car and then shove the rest of it inside. After I slammed the hatchback door shut and caught my breath, I debated whether to drive straight home or to the nearest chiropractor.
My onlookers, however, cheered and applauded my victory. The dagger-filled glare I shot at them was enough to scare off a rampaging grizzly. I might even have released a growl or two in the process.
And speaking of rampaging grizzlies, also during the pandemic, there was a clerk in Walmart who was about as friendly as a piranha.
I was shopping in the bottled-water aisle, and in front of each brand of water was a sign that said, “Limit only one per customer.” Mistakenly, I thought the signs meant only one of each brand, so I put three different gallons into my cart.
Within seconds, the aforementioned clerk swooped in out of nowhere and yanked the bottles out of my cart. “Only ONE per customer!” She snapped at me. “I’m SO fed up with all of this sh*t!”
Let’s just say I doubted she would win the “employee of the month” award anytime soon, especially when I later overheard her shouting something about a “fat ass” at a customer in the toilet-paper aisle.
3. In the seasonal department in one Walmart, I once asked a clerk who was busy organizing a shelf, where the potting soil was. He ignored me. I asked him again. He still ignored me. I was standing to his right at the time, and he never even so much as turned his head.
Somewhat offended, I stepped away and was about to walk off, when I noticed on the back of his blue vest it said he was hearing-impaired! That explained a lot. So I tapped him on the back. He finally turned to look at me.
I assumed he could read lips or perhaps even hear just well enough to make out what I was saying, so I asked him about potting soil once again.
“WHAT?” he shouted, loud enough to attract the attention of several nearby customers.
I repeated my request in a louder voice.
“WHAT’S WAS THAT?” he asked.
Again, I repeated it as loudly as I possibly could…without rupturing something.
“OH! POTTING SOIL! FOLLOW ME!”
By then, customers were staring at us, probably wondering what I had done to make him shout at me about potting soil.
He actually was a really nice guy and was very helpful, but I was grateful I hadn’t asked him for something more personal, like a feminine-hygiene product or “Bombs Away!” laxative.
4. And one time I encountered a clerk in sporting goods who actually was too helpful when I asked where the reflective tape was.
He asked me what I planned to do with it, which surprised me because I thought it really was none of his concern. But then I figured he’d probably asked so he could determine something like the width or color I needed. I explained I sometimes took walks after dark and didn’t want to get hit by a car, so I was going to put the tape on my jacket or my sneakers.
He couldn’t have looked more appalled if I’d told him I’d planned to abduct someone and use the tape to silence my victim.
What followed was a lecture from him about walking alone after dark, followed by a lesson in self-defense. He demonstrated moves he said I should use in case a car ever pulled up while I was out walking and someone tried to grab me. These moves included such pain-inducers as my leg or knee to his groin, the heel of my hand to his nose, and a closed-fist uppercut beneath his chin. There also was either a punch or a kick to the gut, but I can't remember which one offhand.
Actually, it was all quite interesting.
When my “lesson” was over, the clerk told me to show him what I had learned…by pretending he was an attacker. He instructed me to go through the motions and act out the moves he’d just demonstrated.
I hesitated, thinking I might risk getting arrested because it would look as if I were assaulting an employee. But then I figured if I wanted to make certain I’d learned the moves correctly, I probably should give them a try. So I went through the motions. But I think my knee might have come a bit too close to his groin area…unless he was just adding appropriate groans and painful reactions to give me a more realistic experience?
Later, when I finally arrived at the checkout to pay for my items and the reflective tape, I mentioned to the cashier how the clerk in sporting goods had given me an unexpected lesson in self-defense.
She rolled her eyes. “Oh, God, Rambo's at it again? You’ll have to excuse him. He just got out of the military and he’s having trouble adjusting to civilian life.”
But I honestly didn’t mind. In fact, I was kind of hoping he’d teach me lesson number two the next time I went shopping.
5. If there is one thing at Walmart in Concord that really upsets customers, it’s the fact there usually are only two registers open, no matter how busy the store is. I can’t count the number of times I’ve wound up standing amongst the racks of women’s clothing while waiting to check out, the line was so long…as I watched my frozen foods transform into puddles in my cart.
A few years ago during the Christmas rush, after standing for what seemed like hours in the slowest-moving line in the history of all department stores, I wrote about the experience in my newspaper column.
I said, “I stood in the checkout line at Walmart for so long last week, a guy and a girl behind me in line met, fell in love, got married and had a baby before I reached the register.”
A few days later, I received an e-mail from the store’s manager who wrote, “I just read your column about waiting in line and I’m not at all pleased. You exaggerated!”
Ya think?
Anyway, this is only a small portion of my list, but it’s getting late, so I will continue this some other time – and include the most recent of my unique Walmart experiences – “The Attack of the Killer Margarine.”
(Maybe I should have used some of those self-defense moves on it!)
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Sally Breslin is an award-winning syndicated humor columnist who has written regularly for newspapers and magazines all of her adult life. She is the author of several novels in a variety of genres, from humor and romance to science-fiction. Contact her at: sillysally@att.net.
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