I rarely go into a wal-mart during the day, I usually go to a 24 hour wal-mart at midnight when no one is around.  But I heard they don’t let black people in there anymore so I figured it wouldn’t be as crowded (that was funny and I’m not apologizing for it).

I’m pushing my cart down the isle and ahead of me( I really need to stop looking up when I’m in public…it gives my brain too much time to get annoyed and cause trouble) I see a…oh…300 pound woman in one of those little scooter that are SUPPOSED to be for elderly and cripples who CAN”T walk.  The first day I saw one of those things I knew they would end up getting used by the lazy and fat and become the bane of my existence.  That guy who invented the “segue way” was over estimating people when he thought they’d be to lazy to walk…people have become to lazy to stand. …NEXT to her is a…oh…250 pound woman pushing a cart.  Between them they are taking up 13/16^th of the isle.    I resign myself to the fact they I will be stuck  moving at their snails pace for the rest of the isle.  I try to occupy my time by watching the hostess packages and wondering if ALL of the food on these shelves would equal the weight of the two people in front of me.

Now really, I don’t care if your fat, if you think life is too short to worry about what you eat or to excersise…I’m not going to argue with you, you could very well be right.  But when you get so fat that you can’t move and continue your glutonous behavior (there carts weren’t excatally filled with rice cakes and soy milk if you kow what I mean) then you are a sick asshole.  It’s unhealthy you understand…to be so overweight that you can’t more or are wider than the cart full of food you are pushing.

The it happens…they stop.  They stop dead and start to converse.  “I’m not going to make a scene” I say to myself and I navigate my way past using the remaining 2\16^th of the isle, and as I start to turn to the next isle the behemoth in the scooter pulls forward.

woman- “careful mom you don’t want to run anyone over…EVEN IF THEY ARE RUDE”

me-“excuse me?”

woman-“you shouldn’t cut people off asshole””

and I think she tried to wiggle her head/neck at me like black women do when THEY yell at me for something, but her head was such a fat glob that her face just sort of moved around in a circular motion without disturbing any of the girth it was set in.

It’s a strange thing you know, getting into a loud argument in  public…it’s sort of unnerving at first, makes you a little self conscious, then it becomes very liberating, and eventually you just sort of feel like a jackass if it continues to long. “never argue with an idiot, people might not be able to tell the difference” is the quote that comes to mind.  So there is a small window of time that has to be managed for you to walk away not feeling like you waisted your time and made a fool of yourself.  Lately I’ve just beeen holding to the “it’s not worth it” principal. 

My brain - “fuck I’m making a scene”

me-“maybe if you two weren’t taking up the entire isle while your eyes glaze over at the presence of all these donuts, I could have gotten through without nearly getting run over.”

There was a long gratifying pause and then.

woman“OH, you need to shut the fuck up!”

me-“or what?”

another long gratifying pause

me-“hmmmmmm?…”  I lean over my cart while asking, not in a threatening way but more…whimsicaly and inquisitive

me-“can you get around that cart to belt me without needing to take a knee?  Perhaps I could get YOU one of those carts so you could wheel up to me. That is YOUR future on your left.  Lazy, inconsiderate, morbidly obese, and completely uninterested in using your legs even if it’s to get more delicious delicious food”

You know there are times even I leave a situation and think “OH, I should have said THIS”, but this time the little a-hole soldiers in my brain where loading the shells as fast as I could fire them off.   I continued…

me-“I have paper towels here for you to wipe the sweat off if you make it the six feet.”

woman-“fuck You!

She had a fat child in her cart and I replied “nice…think that’ll be his first words?  or will they be “why don’t I have a dad?”

Like I said the soldiers were really moving…I had noticed she didn’t have a ring on and was hoping she’d say “I have a man” or “I know who his daddy is” so I could reply “ah…I saw no ring on your finger…I should have assumed your husband simply couldn’t find one big enough to put on your hoof….my apologies”