Saturday, August 6, 2011

A Period Piece

For something completely different, The Pony and I did our business with The Devil on Saturday instead of Sunday. Not that you could tell.

On our way in, a motorist dude swerved around a woman with a toddler and blew through the crosswalk area, running the next two stop signs as well. Crackhead.

I was almost backed over by a woman riding a cart on the pest spray aisle. I was actually looking for some dust wipe thingamabobs, and thought maybe some Lemon-Pledge-like products may be grouped with other aerosols. No. I searched four aisles and never found any dusting products.

Because it was the first weekend of the month, and back-to-school time, and a Saturday at 11:30 a.m., The Devil had his minions blocking foot traffic and displays with industrial carts loaded with product. Because the busiest shopping hours of the month are apparently the best time to stock shelves. What do those employees do from midnight until dawn? Have a hoedown with The Devil? I had to wait nigh on ninety seconds for a blue-vested girl to unload a milk crate of...well...milk into the cooler. I thought about grabbing a half gallon out of a crate on her pallet, but thought that might be a bit aggressive. So a bald, bearded dude and I made do with sighing heavily until she finished unloading that crate. Then we swarmed the cooler like a couple of Supermarket Sweep contestants.

The strangest obstacle I encountered was on the back aisle of the health and beauty products department. While The Pony was busily sniffing the assortment of Axe antiperspirants, I was stymied by three people camped in front of the feminine hygiene shelf. One woman was a worker. A man and lady, fairly young, were quizzing her on the availability of what sounded like some kind of pygmy tampon, the kind that's like somewhat folded up in itself, that a girl can carry in her pocket. Their words. Not mine. Sweet Gummi Mary! Were they shopping for a birthday gift? It's not like this was some hoity toity boutique dedicated to the disbursement of tween period products. It was The Devil's Playground, for cryin' out loud! What you see is what you get. Bait and switch. They get you hooked on a certain brand and size, then discontinue it and foist Sam's Choice or Great Value on you. Did these folks think they could ask that clerk to special order a custom item?

Seriously. It made me look for a hidden camera.

5 comments:

Chickadee said...

WOW. Don't go there on Saturdays anymore. I wonder if it's the MO Tax-Free weekend or just a typical Saturday at The Devil's Playground.

Chickadee said...

Oh and another thing, what's up with a man going with a woman to talk about tampons?? Don't guys usually avoid that stuff like the plaque? (sp)

Perv.

Hillbilly Mom said...

Chick,
Our municipality has opted out of the Tax-Free weekend. It's a crap shoot. Some years we get it, some years we don't.

I don't know what that dude was thinking. That's why I looked for a hidden camera. And hoped that if I found one, I was not being targeted as a Person of Walmart.

labbie1 said...

I was waiting with bated breath (now that I have confirmed and mastered bated, I want to use it!) to know what was in the milk crate at the Devil's Playground! I sure was glad to hear that there was milk in the milk crate! LOL

And Geez! Even I don't want to discuss feminine products--why would a guy?

I think I would avoid the place on Saturday from now on if I were you. Obviously it is a game you haven't played in a while and they were gunning for you! :)

Hillbilly Mom said...

labbie,
You must be so proud, now that you're a master bater! At least you weren't waiting with bated breath for a clerk to give you the history of The Devil's feminine hygiene products.

The Devil and I go way back. It might have been a Saturday visit that prompted my old post of "The Devil Has One Ball". I don't remember which of my blogs it was on. A Google might get it if you have a burning desire to read it. But your time might better be spent continuing to master your bating.