On March 3, 2010, we were at Walmart ordering my daughter’s 18th birthday cake. The clerk took all the information. We decided that we wanted a gender neutral cake with no flowers or girly decorations, because my daughter wanted to share the cake with her friend since his birthday was 2 days after hers. While the clerk was verifying the details, the cake decorator came over and looked at the request. She said. ” Is this all you want on the cake?” I said, “Yes, just Happy 18th Birthday Taylor and Zach.” Then the decorator asked if we wanted sprinkles on the cake. My daughter said yes, because she didnt think that would be too girly. So the clerk wrote it on the order. On March 5th, I sent my husband to pick up the cake. He got it and was heading to the check out when he looked at the cake better and it read..”HAPPY 18TH BIRTHDAY TAYLOR, ZACH AND SPRINKLES” He wondered who sprinkles was and if we had gotten a cat!!!! He returned to the cake counter and told them that the cake was wrong and they the attempted to remove “Sprinkles”, it left a big place in the icing that was very noticeable. The decorator then asked my husband if we wanted sprinkles on the cake to cover the place that they tried to fix. He told her that was what we wanted in the first place.
Having spent my entire life in Texas with the exception of 7 years in Arkansas, I used to think that there was no way I would ever see displays of ignorance or idiocy akin to what I’d experienced in “Bill Clinton Land,” after returning home to Texas. Well, one fateful night at Wal-Mart in my home state, I was proven wrong.
Shortly upon entering the store, I’d noticed a rather large woman, who was visibly economically impaired. She had with her 4 children, 2 of them in nothing but diapers, and she had them all sitting in her buggy. The youngest of the babies was probably about 7 months old, and because it was close to 11 at night, the poor little thing was cranky and exhausted, not unlike his siblings, and understandably, the mother herself was rather frazzled and short tempered. I wanted to point out that if she had her children at home in the bed at such a late hour, she would probably not be in that situation, but I held my tongue because perhaps she was a working mom who just got off work or something, and had to go to the store for milk or other various necessities.
I was soon proven wrong on this, however, because I saw her a few minutes later in the beer and wine section, with cartons of ale and bottles of wine shoved in the basket in the available space not taken up by her children. And the littlest baby had decided that enough was enough, and was squalling so loudly it could have woken the dead. I felt sorry for the poor thing, and remembered that I had a brand new pacifier, still in the package, in my purse for any tantrum emergencies for my own baby. So I went up to the woman and said, “You must have your hands full. I have a new binky in my purse, it hasn’t been opened yet, you are welcome to it if you’d like.”
The woman blinked and said, “Oh, no, I don’t let my babies use those things. It’s bad for their teeth, and I think they need to have other ways of soothing themselves.” I shrugged and walked away to the dairy section, leaving behind the screaming baby, and a minute later I noticed the baby had stopped crying. Curious, I scanned the aisles to see what she had done to quiet him down. Well, the woman whose children were too good for pacifiers had given her child an unopened bottle of beer from one of her cartons and he was happily sucking on it. Go figure.
I was working the register after zero training, and the customer line was long and getting longer. I was receiving quite a few insults about how slow I was on the register, and reaching the end of my rope with the whole thing when a woman in line took pity on me.
“What would it take to shut down this register?” she said quietly.
“A real disaster” I replied.
She winked, and casually swept her arm around so it knocked a big glass jug of wine off the belt to shatter all over the floor. She apologized over and over to both me and the supervisor who ran up, and my register was shut down for safety reasons, much to the dismay of the line of customers, for whom I had no sympathy.
The best part was an old man in ratty jeans and a t-shirt filled with holes ran up, knelt down in the puddle of wine, and began running his fingers through it and licking the wine off his hands.
I quit 30 minutes later, when the supervisor told me I’d have to stay late to help with the leftover customers because since the wine had broken on my register, it was partially my fault.
My cousin and I were standing next in line for checkout and were noticing the family checking out in front of us. There was an older woman, her teenage daughter and who I’m thinking was the baby’s daddy with their somewhat “bouncy” little boy sitting in the cart checking out. We weren’t paying them much attention until we just happened to notice the little boy suddenly sticks his legs straight out and liquid started shooting out towards us and hit the very end of our cart.
We backed the cart up quickly and watched in horror as a rather large puddle accumulated on the floor in front of us. As we tried to alert the people in front of us of the situation they proceeded to check out and when they finally understood that their son/grandson just urinated on the floor they looked at it and left.