My back was killing me. I had just moved into my new house and all the lifting really tweaked my back. I’m not sure why, I was keeping my legs locked and lifting with my groin as I was taught. I took a hand full painkillers and still could not sleep, I needed a heat pad. I was not feeling pain but I knew I had to fix my back or I would pay for it in the morning. Looks like I was to head to Walmart as it was 4 am.
Walmart at its best is a nightmare, the shallow end of the gene pool laid bare for all to see. At it’s worst its akin to a Fellini movie starring the cast of Deliverance. As I walked in I was accosted by some twenty-something stoners driving the Walmart scooters in circles. The scooters are for the elderly and disabled. Cheech and Chong over here seemed to think that the carts were meant for them and not the elderly lady walking in the door. After a few moments of this lady waiting for the stoners to get up and offer her a cart she started to hobble into the store. I saw this and as I had already reached my limit of rudeness and bullshit for the day took action.
I walked over and yelled “Hey, jackball. Get of the cart”. His reply was that there were other carts available and then he questioned my parentage. I tend to act rashly at times and my tolerance for jackassery is very low, so I leaned back a bit, raised my knee to waist height and loosed a vicious snap kick to the scooter seat. The desired effect was realized as the hippie went flying. His buddy got of his scooter and I walked the scooter over to lady. She said she was fine and I insisted that she use the scooter that she obviously needed. She thanked me and I wished a good day.
The moral of my story should be obvious by now, I am a complete tool with poor impulse control. That and I think I’m a superhero. A Walmart Superhero!
Why do I keep going there? I loath Walmart. I loath the people there and most of all I loath myself for stepping foot into that backwoods carnival. Yet I go, I try to go at 1 or 2 in the morning. Not that don’t want to be seen there just that the orcs and assorted Nair-do-wells are huddled in a RV doing meth and singing Sweet Home Alabama.
Dear reader if I haven’t mentioned it before I would like to state for the record that I have a very strange phobia about Walmart. I cant be in there longer than 10 min’s or I freak out. Ask anyone that has gone with me and they will tell you I have a Darwinian shot clock. I guess that the melange of inbreeding and the lack of teeth or footwear just spooks me and 10 min’s is my hair trigger. No matter what I’m doing, at the 10 min mark I just walk. Yet again I digress.
So I am shopping for my useless goods and it hits, I need to tinkle. Lets just say that I have a very industrious bladder and when I have to go I really have to go. So I’m in Walmarts door-less bathroom, I say door-less not to give the impression that I’m peeing in view of everyone its just that the configuration of the entrance is like a corn maze. You have to walk around a few corners and such. As restrooms go its pretty nice, clean and spacious. Modern looking with subway tiles all over. So I’m at the urinal doing my thing when I fart. Not your normal fart. The kind that makes you look behind you to see if there are any casualties. Like when you fire a sam missile and you are worried about the backwash of stage 1 ignition. Well as a well-versed bathroom farter I spun my head in search of someone to blame this on. This is a technique I developed years ago and it has served me well. You fart then let someone else exit the bathroom before you thereby taking the brunt of the scorn. I forgot, it is 1 am and there is nobody.
Now this was no ordinary flatus. It wasn’t the most violent one that I have laid down but definitely in the top 10. What made it worse was the fact that someone decided to model the acoustics in there after the Sistine Chapel. After I got past the initial fear(yes my own farts scare me, they remind me of the evil spirits leaving the Ark in Indian Jones). I thought that it might be ok as the din of all the Hee-Hawwers coming through line might hide the blast. Then I remembered the hour and as I exited my gaze was met with 3 employees looking at me with disgust. I was embarrassed and scurried for something to say, preferable something monosyllabic so that they might understand better.
I just told them that somebody might want to check on “that guy in there†and made hast for the door.
My 10 minutes had just elapsed.
Thats right, you heard me I licked it! I licked your iphone before you got it. Remember all the calls you made to me asking if we had the iphone in stock? Recall all the days you kept me late just asking if I knew anything more about it and I said no? Remember all the times you freaked me out in the parking lot asking when the launch would be?
A year later and now I will tell you, I had all of the answers you wanted! I could have let you stay late and play with the iphone. You would have been the only person in the state that would have got a sneak peek. But you pissed me and every other ATT employee off. You called at least 30 times a day and took us away from other work. I spent hours on the phone with you answering “I don’t know” to questions that where answered by the internet. The iphone was $600, I could have given it to for $200.
You drove me to it. I stayed late on the night before the iphone launced and licked them all! It was my crazy revenge.
Well at least it wasn’t as bad as this guy.
Take that bitches!
I’m not sure what I had eaten beforehand that would conspire to create such horrible gas reaction in my internal system. Normally, I giggle(in a manly way) like everyone else at the sound of a well timed or particularly creative fart. Not this time. No laughing matter. This was literally horrific.
I’m shopping alone in the canned vegetables isle at my local grocery store. My stomach churned loudly and I released what I though was a normal if not somewhat aggressive fart. I stood for a moment and sniffed, as we all instinctively do…and was instantly hit with an odor so strong that it took my breath away. I’m 35 years old and have smelled and dealt some pretty atrocious stinkbombs in my time. The magnitude of this flatus was worse (or better depending upon your frame of mind) than anything I had ever experienced. I began to run down the isle to escape and seek fresh air. I swear the fart was following me. A good thirty feet away, the nasty smell was as strong as at ground zero.
Imagine the potency. I did everything I could to hold down a projectile barf.
Then to my horror, as I looked back, a very old lady with a walker turned the corner and began to walk right toward the impact zone. Unless my eyesight was somehow distorted by the event I clearly saw a light green cloud hovering at ground zero. Before I could do anything, she entered the cloud and immediately staggered several steps back as if she walked into a brick wall, covered her mouth and dropped her handbag.
I retreated around the corner and out of sight, cringing like a little boy about to be bullied. I just couldn’t look. I’m a healthy man and it clearly over-powered me. I could only imagine what state she was in, especially if she was still trapped in that impact zone.
So I don’t know what eventually happened to that old lady. But I am truly very sorry. God forbid if she had a heart attack or suffered any long term disability. Hopefully she just got up, brushed herself off, sued the store and and is now living comfortably.
Me ? I’m OK. I have to live with my damaged karma and the thought that if I did it once it could happen again.
I’m done with Walmart! Well at least done yelling at the inept clerks. They just look at me ,with eyes glazed, and breath through their mouth.
So, with that said, I have decided to freak their freak by taking a new approach. I curse at them Shakespeare style. Yes, you too, can use the words of The Bard to blow their minds.
Thou spongy fly-bitten clack-dish!
Thou mangled guts-griping whey-face!
O, [thou art] as tedious as a tired horse, a railing wife, Worse than a smoky house.
Thou mewling tickle-brained blind-worm!
Use these with caution as they are prone to make the stupid freak out and cry.
My back was killing me. I had just moved into my new house and all the lifting really tweaked my back. I’m not sure why, I was keeping my legs locked and lifting with my groin as I was taught. I took a hand full painkillers and still could not sleep, I needed a heat pad. I was not feeling pain but I knew I had to fix my back or I would pay for it in the morning. Looks like I was to head to Walmart as it was 4 am.