People of Wal-Mart

We went to Wal-Mart last night for a little back-to-school shopping. And, you know, Wal-Mart usually has a few weird characters. But surely we’re supposed to be able to go at least one aisle without running into somebody?

First, we ran into a small fiasco in the electronics department. Some teenagers were pretending to be autistic, and using the excuse (?) to shout obscenities as loud as possible. Ethan escorted me to the other side of the store and made me promise “not to hurt anybody.”

Then we ran into a mission buddy of mine. Met his wife. Talked for a while, until we were all distracted by a woman wearing only a bra under a sheer shirt and her friend, who appeared to be a hooker. I still have questions about the gender, but this woman (?) was about 6 feet tall, wearing high heels, a heavily beaded headband/headdress, and a tank top. It might have been easier to tell the gender if there had been more figure or less makeup.

Two seconds later, in the next aisle, we ran into one of his mission buddies (and wife). And a repeat performance from the scantily clad and questionably gendered.

Two grown men carrying only a toilet seat.

A well-dressed hipster, desperate for a stapler, who couldn’t seem to comprehend that the staplers come with staples already in them.

Two store workers cleaning up a shattered bottle of apple cider vinegar.

There’s a part of me that just wonders what people think when they pass us in the aisle. Because, as I think about all the weirdness around us, I also remember that we were wandering around, singing the praises of composition notebooks, quoting weird children’s songs and movie lines, and generally not making a lot of sense. Perhaps there are two grown men somewhere today, installing a new toilet seat and chuckling at the weird couple they saw at Wal-Mart with a box of laundry soap and 11 composition notebooks, “sha-la-la”-ing their way through the school supplies. But if you can’t be you, who else can you be? You go for it, people of Wal-Mart. ♦


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