Mojito and I spent December 22nd through 29th in the Franklin Wal-Mart. Trash, as expected, was as bad as always. I’ve also had a new low established, which I must share with you. If you thought face tattoos were poor form, this newest neck tattoo fad will be all the rage. Sure to please any job interviewer, I saw a young woman showing off a tat reading, “Da Bottom Bitch,” emblazoned on the side of her neck. For those of you unsure just exactly what a bottom bitch is, please do a Google search, I’ll wait right here until you get back….
Well, that was informative wasn’t it? That’s spelled out on her neck. “Juicy” sweatpants can be taken off, gold chains featuring “Bootyful” can be melted down, but a neck tattoo is forever. Ah, just when you think you’ve seen it all! Her momma must be so proud. Give me one chance Fancy, don’t let me down!
The shopping on this shift was fair, if you like holiday specials and ginormous crowds. It may be really cold this winter, but you would never know it with all that body heat from the crowds. If hell froze over, just build a Wal-Mart there and she’ll thaw out. Oh boy, I think I just gave the higher-ups an idea for expansion. On second thought, some of you might think Wal-Mart is in fact Hell in the first place.
Something really spectacular happened on this trip. I caught two different couples that were ummm, let’s say, having some “happy fun time” out on the aisles. I don’t want to go into any great detail here as this is a family-oriented publication! I quickly got out the produce hose and sprayed them down, separating them from each other, like you do when your dogs are going at it. Save it for home, folks. We know what’s going on, we see the string of kids behind you growing by the week, but this is a business (unlike the kind of the bottom-bitch variety).
I let them both go out through the back door. They looked at me for a few seconds and then proceeded like I wasn’t even there, couldn’t even say thank-you for not calling the cops or anything. Trooper Johnson has enough to worry about, I heard he recently manhandled a 400lb man that tried to sneak out of here with 2 Goodyear tires shoved under his clothes; I wish I had been on shift when that happened, but regardless, he’s in no shape to be risking his life while tackling these vigorously-humping thrill seekers.
The only other real notable occurrence was the first night, when we got serenaded for about 2 hours by a local choir. They were on my side of the store too, which was a little disconcerting. I’m not too fond of Christmas music due to the industry in which I work every day. I quickly moved to another part of the store. It sounded like a pretty good size pack, and they were really doing the spooky cry/screaming/howling thing, enough so that I ended up faking sick and went home. Carolers should be called a nuisance species so that no one should have to deal with it.
Well, that’s all for this week, live from your Franklin Wal-Mart.