A Walmart Experience

      It's a foregone conclusion that when we go to Walmart, we can expect to experience any number of things. From the woman wearing a bikini and high heels to the girl in pajamas and slippers, we are neither shocked nor surprised by such sightings anymore. My experience the other day was different, but certainly within the realm of possible Walmart encounters.

My mom and I went to pick up a few things. These excursions usually begin with me coasting up and down parking lot aisles becoming ever more frustrated as I look for a handicap spot. It can be almost impossible to find one simply because of the general clientele of the superstore chain with discount prices. It would behoove them to add more than the requisite number of parking spaces for those with mobility issues, but that's another subject for another day. 

I finally found a non-handicap spot with enough room to squeeze a motorized cart to the passenger door for my mom. I went in through the market entrance and had to walk to the other end to find a charged cart. The relentless beeping of the carts throughout the store was to me like a playground bully who won't let me on the monkey bars. As I got to the second entrance there was one lone cart sitting close to the doors. I double-timed my steps to grab it before anyone else thought to jump on and take off at the breakneck speed of 1 mile per hour.

I hopped onto the seat, flipped the power switch, and looked to confirm it had a full charge. I puttered off out the door to the parking lot. Halfway across the driveway between the store and lot, the cart stopped. I pulled the lever, I pushed the lever, nothing happened. Fortunately, there were no cars waiting to go through, probably on their own quest for a handicap spot. I flipped the power switch off then on and we were back in business.

Finally in the store, we ambled up and down aisles to pick up what we needed. We headed to the self-checkout. One of the items I bought was a folding table to use for my sewing machine. When something like this is scanned it offers a protection plan. If you're not paying attention, like me, the scanner will flash red and make that low-pitched beep beep. It's scolding my audacity at trying to skip a step while I attempt to scan the next item in the basket. Moving forward is impossible until the protection plan for the table is either accepted or declined. It was at this point a Walmart checkout assistant approached and reminded me of this. It's also when things got really weird.

I happened to be wearing my Alabama (Bama) sweatshirt; one with Big Al, the elephant looking fierce. The checkout assistant saw my shirt and said, "Oh, that must be an Obama shirt." It took me a moment to realize she was talking about Barak Obama. Okaaay?

My confused expression led to her next statement, "But it has an elephant...isn't the elephant for the republican party?" 

"Uh, yes ma'am. But this shirt is for the University of Alabama," I replied, still a little confused. 

Her next question was, "So, why the elephant?"

"I'm not sure of the entire history, but the elephant, named Big Al, has been Alabama's mascot for many years now."

She then looked up at me and said, "You know elephants can swim, right?"

Me:  . . .

    It's one of the most bizarre encounters I've ever had. The fact it happened at Walmart shouldn't surprise me though. I wonder what she would have thought had I said, "ROLL TIDE!"