This past weekend we were at the Wal Mart. Wal Mart who never fails in it's WTFness glory. You can always go in, and experience at least one WTF. If it's not some lady trying to impress you with her 10 years of Wal Mart service yet doesn't know the standard policy, or the cutting lady in the fabric department who is really annoyed that you *gasp* asked her to cut you a few yards of tulle, or just the type that Wal Mart attracts.
It was during our family jaunt for Valentines, specifically Littlest Pet Shop- that they didn't have so we could have really just walked out, but nooooo we needed to get snack bags. And if you give a girl some snack bags, chances are she'll need some cans of kidney beans to go with it. I was making chili, and needed some beans, killin 2 birds with one stone and all.
We are in the canned aisle of spaghettios, corn and the like. A mom and daughter duo in front of us, and Shirley to the left. Now, to really relate to this story, I need to tell you about her size. I am not one to point out who struggles, who doesn't, etc, about their weight, but this is essential. She was big. Very big. Normally not something to bring up in a story, but like I said, it's a necessary evil in this case. I'm slinking down the right side of the aisle, minding my own beeswax, waiting to get to the bean section.
And then the sky clouded over.
Big Shirley steps right next to me, raises her larger arms, and practically smothers me.
She is in such a hurry to get to the Spam, no lie-- she was loading up on the Spam-- that she didn't notice me, and my entourage of children, cart and husband. She brushes up on me, like body to body, closer than two sardines in a burrito. I'm getting all kinds of claustrophobic and my brains is screaming wtf over and over, I'm trying to get out of the way. Who just steam rolls people, with no regard to personal space? She was literally all up on me, skin contact, being a large space invader, it was..... gross. because of all the horrors, she forgot deodorant. I swear some pit vapors got on my clothes.
I scurry like a rat with a cat on it's tail and say "Excuse me." I didn't know what to say, I was just glad to be alive. The husband is behind me and is floored as well. She doesn't say a word. She tosses an annoyed look my way, because I had the nerve to be standing in front of the canned gelatin cat puke. My bad.
I hate Wal Mart, for about 10,000