Yesterday I graduated to the rank of Grand Wizard of Walmart shoppers because I got into my first official battle with another customer. (For those of you not fortunate enough to grace Walmart’s hallowed aisles with your presence, you’re nothing but a little b&*tch until you fight with another shopper.)
Allow me to set the scene. I was waiting online at the self checkout stations. I was at the head of the line. I positioned myself between two of the stations, figuring whichever one opened up first was the one I would use. I have long used this system not only because there is no “line system” at Walmart, but I find this strategy most efficient; you and the people behind you never get stuck behind the poor schlub who takes 20 minutes checking out four items because he’s too clueless to find the bar code on the back of a can of Tang.
Several people had lined up behind me. Suddenly, some redneck lady marched up to the front of one of the stations I was commandeering.
“Excuse me,” I said. “The line is back here.”
“What line? I don’t see a line.”
“You see all these people behind me in a string? That’s ‘a line.’”
“Well, then line up behind one of the machines!” she yelled. “You can’t stand all the way back here” — indicating the four foot distance between me and the machines — “and call it being in line.”
“Really? Where am I supposed to stand?”
“You have to stand right behind one of the machines.”
“Why?” I asked. “Who says?”
“Because that’s not fair, that’s why. You have to pick one machine and stand behind it.”
I’m not normally combative. I actually hate confrontation of any sort. But for some reason, it really chafed my nerves that her argument boiled down to some perceived notion of “fairness.” Like this was just another example of the cruelty of the universe. And I noticed she had a case of Dinty Moore chili in her cart. Oh, it was on.
“Really? It’s not fair? What makes you an authority on the fairness of Walmart line system?” I asked.
She stepped back toward me with her cart and looked me dead in the eye.
“Oh, I’m not even going to get into this with you,” she leveled in a thick southern drawl.
“You’re not?” My voice rose so that everyone around us could hear what was going on. “Because I’d love to get into a debate with you about this important issue. There’s so much to say about it.” I started to laugh and reflexively turned around to the guy behind me almost to guage whether he was hearing this. But he stared straight ahead like a deer caught in the headlights. Wimp, I thought.
She backed down and went to stand on another line.
“Ma’am, is this okay with you?” She called facetiously over the other shoppers. “Is it okay with your highness if I stand on this line over here?”
“I don’t care where you stand, just don’t stand in front of me,” I hollered back.
I checked out my carrots and bok choy and exited the store, thinking how good it felt to wage a battle at Walmart. I have arrived!
