This Is Why We Can't Shop On a Snow Day

You might recall that on Wednesday, I ventured out for the first time since the most recent big snow, and headed to Walmart. A trip which was quite fruitful, supplying me with some sour grapes to stomp here.

I was in line for 20 minutes. There's a reason for that. More than just the festive snow-day retail circus to which I had a free ticket. The store was not crowded. Are you kidding? Traveling those frozen roadways was harder than running across a buttered tile floor with grape jelly on your feet. Not that I've ever tried it.

Three registers were open, and a couple of those 20 items or less short counters. The shoppers were not women alone or with a toddler in the cart-seat. The shoppers were whole families. Or at least man/woman combos. I only saw a handful of people shopping singularly. Getting to the store was a production. Most people had carts piled to the top, even though I'm sure they had stocked up with bread and milk before the storm.

I headed for my favorite register on the end, but a man and woman had two carts filled with huge bales of toilet paper. I swear, each pack must have held 27 rolls. I'm not sure if they were feeling a bit...um...indisposed...or if they ran a business, or if they were on hidden camera, Extreme Couponing. There were two more couples with carts ahead of them, so I moved down to the only other open checker on that end. Sure, the two couples ahead of me had loaded carts, and the single woman directly in front of me also had a tall load. Still. It was six of one, a half-dozen minus one of the other. I settled down to wait.

A guy pulled up behind me, also eschewing the TP People. I had already waited five minutes by the time he pulled up. We waited another five. The TP People advanced one cart, just as I let out a heavy sigh. Nobody fails to contain her displeasure in public like Val. The old man behind me said, "That one's moving. Go ahead." What a gentleman. Perhaps these are NOT such troubling times in the kingdom.

"Oh, no. You go ahead. I started over there, then switched. I'm not going back."

The old guy moved on over. I continued to wait. I couldn't even while away the one-third hour by reading tabloids. Not because I already had that week's tabloids, but because there were no tabloids. A couple of gone-to-seed roadie-looking dudes were switching out the racks. Because if there's one thing Walmart needs, it's a new and different kind of rack to hold the tabloids. Except they don't. Because the old racks and new racks looked pretty much identical.

I was so bored that, for just a moment, I quit dwelling upon my own misery. The checker was holding up newspaper ads with every product she scanned. Great Googly Moogly! I must have been right about that Extreme Couponing theory. Ol' Savey Stacy was chatting about each item. The couples would nod. Grab a bag as it was slowly filled. Oh, well. Times are tough. I couldn't begrudge folks their savings. I just found it odd that so many customers had come out in the snow for comparison pricing.

Once the two couples were finally served, the singleton ahead of me unloaded her cart for close conveyor scrutiny. Again with the savings. Near the end of her items, as my stuff behind the divider bar was inching ever-closer, Savey Stacy held an item aloft. It was an airline-travel-size bottle of alcohol. Pink. There's a box display of them between the deli and the vegetables.

"Is this any good? I haven't seen Watermelon!"

"I don't know. It's not for me."

"This is the best! Blue Raspberry mixed with lemonade!" Savey Stacy held up a blue tiny bottle. "I used to work in Backroads at a convenience store. They had these, so I just took some home and tried them."

"Huh. I'll recommend that one." Singleton was a good sport. Thank goodness she didn't seem to be an alcoholic with the shakes, or a sneak-drinker trying to make her intended purchase inconspicuous like a tweenager with a box of tampons. And when she said she "took them home" I'm hoping Savey Stacy meant she paid for them first. Or not. Which could explain why she no longer worked there.

Finally. It was my turn. I'd almost given myself scoliosis leaning on the handle of my cart/walker. I was glad I'd sent The Pony on out to T-Hoe after the first ten minutes of waiting. There was no joy in gamevillle after Pony had spent out. He was wandering around looking at other games. Some days I take in a couple of extra bucks, but he'd told me in the car that he didn't need any more. "We'll be done too soon with that short list. I don't want you to wait while I play." He's a gem, my little Pony.

As she started scanning my necessities, Savey Stacy picked up her sale ad. Wait a minute! I was not asking for savings! I only wanted to get out of there. "Huh. Did you have the Apple-Smoked Bacon?"

"No. Just regular."

"Oh. Because Country Mart has a deal on Apple-Smoked, and I could have saved you a dollar."

"That's okay. I've been in line a while. I just want to get going."

"Is this hard to make?" Savey Stacy held up my Red Lobster Cheddar Bay Biscuit mix.

"No. It's like Bisquick. You just add grated cheese and water to the mix, bake it, then brush the powder stirred into melted butter over it."

"My friend made it, and she said it takes a long time."

"No. It's like drop biscuits. Push it off the spoon, and bake for 14-16 minutes. Easy. My kids loved them."

"Huh. There. Save A Lot has a deal on bananas. I saved you sixty cents."

I'm sure the people behind me in line were heavily sighing.