Rude People

Wal-Mart. It is always so crowded, but I make my way through with my cart full of three children. I walk into the express checkout lane with my rotisserie chicken and infant sippy cup. A lady comes up behind me and leans over my shoulder. “Is there someone there? Are they open?” “Yes,” I say, “they are just price checking something.  Every time I move, I always get stuck somewhere longer.” She agrees, “That always happens to me too.” We chuckle together and turn to the girls. The lines get longer as we wait. A manager comes and makes a call to the back room. I can see this is no longer an express checkout lane.

I slowly turn my cart around and go back to the lane behind me. She glances up as if she is going to move out of my way, which makes sense. I was here a couple minutes before her after all. But then, the audacity. She darts back, slides in-between some end-caps where my child-encumpered cart cannot fit through, and slithers her way into the line ahead of me. Then, another woman jumps her way in front of me too, but I’m not really mad at her. My former commiserator is now hunched over, now wearing her sunglasses , and avoiding my gaze. Why? Because you totally cut me lady! I slide my weight back on my hip, cross my arms over my chest, and glare. My best, yet feeble assault. I am hoping to drill little holes the size of my eyes into her head. I can tell I have achieved my goal when Melanie asks, “Are you okay Mommy?” Today, I think I need forgiveness for the nasty things I thought about this weasel of a woman. She’s lucky, or maybe I am, there’s a person between us, or I probably would say something, or just maybe, start a cat fight.


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