Rare is the occasion where I get to slip into Walmart without my kids. When I do, it's so much less painful in a sense, because I can skip the gnashing of teeth and wailing over refused toy purchases and who needs a spanking and who needs to go potty and who is pushing mommy over the edge. Tonight was one of those times. Times like this I am able to observe past the perimeter of my cart's personal space, if that exists, and make note of the, ah-hem...freak show that is going on there. We all know it, we all see it, we're just sometimes too rushed to really soak it in. So I'll share my experience, which really turned out to be heartwarmingly romantic. Not in a Twilight kind of way (I guess I'm the only one who hasn't read the books or seen the movies) but in a full moon brings out the crazies in love kind of way...
So this couple strolls down the aisle like it's the red carpet at the Oscar's and I stop for a minute thinking I might be interrupting something important. Mostly, I'm afraid someone might be taking their picture and I don't want to be in it accidentally and have it posted on the internet. It's Homecoming in __________? (sorry I can't keep track, ask me 18 years ago) and they are dressed to kill. I hear a little boy ask if they're getting married. Cute. They walk back by the electronics department where they part ways. The boy, all dapper in his vest heads straight for the gaming console to test out some new game. Typical. The girl, I secretly hope, is going to buy condoms. And sponges, and foam, and birthcontrol pills, and the morning after pill, and a coat hanger. Times like these are when I really wish I could win the lottery. To randomly help some poor girl like that out, to just follow her and offer her thirty grand to just walk away and go to the dance by herself because this tard just brought her to Walmart. I want her to set her standards higher, to demand more than this because, frankly, this is how he's going to act when he's forty, except it won't be quite so cute, and she's going to have way more stretch marks than options. I circle around the boy who has now met up with other boys who I guess all had some plan to meet up in their rented formal wear to hang out and take turns exchanging germs on the single controller there. Don't they know that barfy-diarrhea stomach thing is going around? They will tomorrow. I wasn't really meaning to circle them like a vulture, but I was more like a bat, without glasses I could NOT figure out where I was in relation to what on earth I was going to get for the seven-year-old birthday girl whose party brought me to Hellmart in the first place.
I get half my stuff and run almost literally into a male nurse and a to be honest I am not really sure, might have been pirate girl or hooker or something, I am hoping they were on their way to a costume party but seemed a little bit early being the 23rd and all, but whatever. I just suddenly felt reeeeeally dirty, like I had stumbled into their bedroom in the middle of some kinky role playing session, and I wanted to get out before they invited me to "stay and play". I know he was a male nurse because his outfit said "Male Nurse" which was lucky because I would have probably confused him for an ER doctor or a Gynecologist so I'm glad he clarified. I don't know what she was because it was honestly just fabricky stuff fashioned in an inappropriate manner even for Walmart given the temperature outside and her girth. I'm not pointing fingers at the calorically challenged, because I fight that fight myself, but she was proud of whatever it was that she had. It was clear, however, that they were excited and in love, and he was clearly going to use her outfit to his advantage tonight. Good for him. I think. Ew.
Anywayyy, with my mental shopping list finally satisfied, complete with requisite wrapping supplies (i.e. gift bags) I made a beeline for the checkout that looked like it would have the shortest wait. One couple behind one lady and they didn't have a lot of stuff. Perfect. Riiiight.
Normally, I am not one to notice what other people are buying. I'm usually too consumed with whether I've forgotten anything myself and/or whether my kids have added anything to the cart without my knowledge. But this wasn't fair. These two forced me to look.
"Why didn't you get the Walmart brand of tooth glue? That crap's expensive."
So now I have to look at the "tooth glue". Poligrip. Okay. And then the other stuff. I can't help it. Baby formula, marshmallows, generic soda, red and black thong underwear, and a case of clay shooting targets. Hmmm, just the basics tonight I guess.
"Because Sheila don't like the Walmart brand, she says it don't keep her dentures in good when she eats hot wings."
"Hot wings like hot like they melt the glue or hot wings like spicy Mexicans?"
"I don't KNOW! It don't matter anyway, just shut up."
"Oh ________ Sheila. I never liked her anyway".
"You liked her Thanksgiving when you had sex with her after the rest of us all passed out."
"Oh yeah, I did. Well are you gonna get all mad if that happens again, because I'm not real sure I can say it won't."
"Hell yeah I'm gonna get mad if I find out, you need to get better at having an affair with my sister if you don't want to end up on Jerry Springer you idiot."
"Hey Baby, at least I saved all that money reloadin' my shells and got you them fancy panties there, huh? Huh? Huh?"
"Ooh, yeah. I love you baby."
"I love you too baby."
Then they kissed. With tongue. And I threw up in my mouth a little and vowed to try harder to do my shopping at Shopko next time. And I'm taking my kids with me for distraction, because frankly I can't handle knowing this much about other people. I need a shower.