My Own Wal-Creature
Every Wal-Mart has its own ‘regulars’ (Willy the Pimp!) and our store is now different. We have ‘Bad Ad-match Lady,’ ‘Smelly Cat Guy,’ ‘Arbor Mist Lady,’ and so on and so on. After three years of working for Wal-Mart as a cashier, I finally got to nickname my very own Wal-Creature.
It was an unusually slow Saturday afternoon, and of few of us cashiers were standing at our registers talking when I spotted her. She was a petite, middle-aged lady with really bad make-up: her foundation was ghost white and caked on so thick it was cracking, super exaggerated pencil-drawn eyebrows, way too much eyeliner, spidery mascara, and red lipstick that looked as if she let a toddler apply it for her. She was browsing the cosmetics, and when she turned the corner to where I thought she couldn’t see me, I pointed her out to the other cashiers. We muffled some giggles, then continued our previous conversation, not giving it another thought.
A couple of minutes later, my Wal-Creature begins pushing her cart towards me, and before I can say “Hi, are you ready to checkout?” She starts laying into me: “I’m sorry miss, but do I have, like, a third eye on my forehead? Becuase I know I look like a hot mess and I don’t look my best today, but it’s incredibly rude for you to gawk and stand here and talk sh*t about me like I’m not standing right here. You think you’re being discreet and all, but you should be ashamed of yourself!”
She stormed off, leaving me, the other cashiers, and a nearby CSM more than a little stunned. After the initial shock wore off, I shrugged it off as someone who was probably having a bad day and I got to be the target of her frustration (we cashiers get that a lot). That is, until she checked out at the register directly behind me. The entire time she ranted to her cashier about how terrible of a person I was, and that people like me should not be allowed to work with the general public. The cashier gave her several apologies for being mistreated, and doing so accidentally scanned some items from the next customer’s ticket, specifically mosetraps. The cashier realized her mistake, but my creature said, “You might as well leave them on my ticket so I can give them to that mean cashier over there and put them on her mouth!” The cashier apologized again, the lady paid in a huff and left.
We see this lady in the store every weekend, almost always shopping for cosmetics. She ALWAYS looks like ‘a hot mess,’ she ALWAYS gives me the stink eye, and we are ALWAYS careful not to offend “The Third-Eye Lady.”