Don’t be a Jesus Freak at Wal-Mart

I loathe shopping at Wal-Mart.

Ok actually that’s not entirely true.  The shopping experience itself actually isn’t all that bad.  There are some great deals, and they certainly have every frigging thing you can think of under one roof, so there IS that.

But what I detest about Wal-Mart is the check out process.  In my experience, there are always lines of people 10 deep, many with more than one shopping card loaded to it’s maximum capacity.  Frankly, I get it.  Why go unless you’re going to hunker down for the apocalypse?  I mean, I’ve been known to buy ammo AND bananas on the same trip.

But I digress.

Today I was in desperate need of a water filter for my refrigerator.  After visiting two Lowe’s, a Home Depot and a Target, I resigned myself to the fact that I was going to have to go to Wal-Mart for this elusive device.  I waited and planned and decided that 3 p.m. would probably be the best time to attempt my excursion. 

As expected, the shopping experience was pretty seamless.  I found the water filter, also remembered that I needed toothpaste, eggs, bananas, and picked up a set of glitter pens because I just couldn’t resist.  

When I got to the checkout with my 5 items, as per usual, the “10 items or less” line had about 80 people in it, and three other registers were open, each with a sizable line of their own.  Seeing as I hadn’t been drinking yet, I had a feeling this might be a stressful situation.

But much to my surprise, the couple that was in front of the guy in front of me in line, and had a large shopping cart full of groceries, offered to let both the guy in front of me (with just a few items) AND me jump in front of them!

Joy!  Elation!  

Unfortunately, I wasn’t going to get off that easily.  As soon as I squeezed in my place in line, the elderly gentlemen asked me if I “know where I’m going?”

I looked at him surprised.  “Well sir, I’m only 30 and the Alzheimer’s hasn’t yet set it, so yeah, I’m pretty clear.  Uh, do you?”  I responded.

“No no no!” Screeched his wife.  Lowering her voice only slightly she continued, “after this.  Do you know where you’re going after this?”

This was getting weird.  “Yes ma’am.  I’m going home to install my new water filter.”

At this point, they are clearly getting more than a little flustered.  Since it’s possible they are a crazy knife wielding 70 year old murderous couple I’m considering using my newly acquired glitter pens as a weapon when finally he clarifies.

“After this life dear.  Are you right with the Lord?  Are you SURE you’re going to Heaven?”

Uh… um… “Thank you for your concern sir, I really appreciate it.”  Really?  At least I managed to bite my tongue and not tell them that I write regularly about poop and sex and the term “accidental orgasm” has brought over 6,000 visitors to my blog in the past few months.

But he wasn’t done yet.  He reaches into his pocket and pulls out a full color 18 page illustrated pamphlet.  “Here,” he says, “read this and follow these instructions.  This will guarantee your place in the house of the Lord when you die.”

At this point I had paid for my items and was about to walk out of the store and never see these people again.  While I really do believe that everyone is entitled to their own beliefs, it’s shit like this that just rubs me the wrong way.  

So what did I do?  You ask?

Simple, I responded, “Oooh thanks!  It really would be great if there were some way I could make up for all of those lesbian group orgies that I filmed in college.  Oh, and that accidental murder.  But I’m totally down with a goat sacrifice.  What page is that on?  Goody.  Thanks again.”

And I skipped off.

Here’s hoping I didn’t give the old guy a heart attack.  Keep an eye on the news kittens.  If you read about a man down in Wal-Mart, know he’s totally going to a better place.

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