I worked as a sales associate in ladies apparel for Walmart in summer of 2003. The average, everyday customers generally came and went before 9 PM. Those who strolled in after 10 PM were often more, um, colorful.
The Walmart where I worked was a 24 hour store. The fitting room doors were locked between 9 PM and 7 AM to make stealing more difficult. I was on the sales floor one night about 10:30, trying to do some last minute straightening before my shift ended at 11. I heard some loud bantering coming from the fitting room area. I eased around to spot two women complaining about the doors being locked. They kept yanking the handles, arms draped with clothing.
Both of the women were – full figured. I momentarily admired the fact they were confident enough to be wearing skimpish attire. But then, the bigger one of them crouched to the floor. She put her chest down and backside up, and tried to squeeze underneath the fitting room door.
She got stuck, partially through, and was wriggling around, trying to get unstuck. She started hollering. Her rear was in the air, and her skirt rode up. She was wearing no underpants.
HECK NO was I trying to break that up! I spotted an assistant manager strolling by, and I flagged him down, and pointed toward the fitting rooms. He was this man I wouldn’t have pegged for older than 22 years old. His face turned about 5 shades of red and he looked extremely humiliated and like he’d just as soon die than stop the woman. Pantyless Wonder finally managed finally to remove herself out from underneath the door. She and her friend dropped the clothes in the floor and ran off.