Getting a little stressed out for the holidays?
A few days ago, I was at Walmart with my mom and my girlfriend buying some items for dinner. We were all in a bit of a hurry to get home, so we chose the express line and began putting our stuff at the far end of the counter. All of a sudden, three kids come along (no less than 8 years old) and immediately put their items directly ahead of us. Items which were essentially crap: toys, video games and candy. This is fine: we knew that we were first in line, and that the parents (wherever they were) would control their bratty kids….not in Walmart.
The father showed up: a normal looking guy wearing brown jeans and a hoodie. He went directly ahead of us, took one look at our fully-unloaded shopping cart, scoffed, and proceeded to butt in front of us. I immediately said to the guy, in as kind a voice as I could muster, “Excuse me, we were first.” The guy turned around and snapped back, “No you weren’t. My kids were here first.” And so despite us being in a hurry, we had to wait well over 15 minutes while this bastard treated his kids to candy and toys at our expense. At this point I was fuming mad. It took the combined efforts of both my mom and my girlfriend to not verbally tear this guy to pieces.
As this guy was walking out of the store, he was stopped by security. Turns out his bratty, spoiled kids decided to stuff a little “extra” in their pockets. They were led off to the security office while my girlfriend and I laughed our asses off.
My husband and I went to Wal-Mart, this has been a while back. My mission was to buy the perfect toy for our puppy. I meticulously picked out a toy, as I tossed it in the air, feeling the texture and testing the durability, it fell to the floor and rolled under the display. Sadly, there was not a toy like it to be found on the rack so my only option was to retrieve my prize from beneath the display. As I blindly swept my hand, it stuck to something….a sticky trap with a dead rat, not a mouse. The spiders and bugs I did not mind, but with a rotten rat stuck to my hand I could not help but scream! My husband rescued me but it seemed as though it took us an hour to get it off!
Well then my man, you’ve come to the right place. This should be like shooting fish in a barrel.