Adventures in Wal-Mart

As I made my fourth trip to Wal-Mart this week, it struck me - you can really tell a lot about a person by the items they are throwing on the checkout counter.  I find it helps to pass the time by giving the shoppers little nicknames and stories.

Take Sniffles. You've seen her before. The one with two bottles of NyQuil, a box of Sudafed, and Kleenex. I give her a wide berth. And slap on the hand sanitizer. If I happen to be picking up a can of disinfectant, I may give a subtle press on the nozzle. No harm done.

Then we have Drunky McHappy Pants. You know who I'm talking about. The 21 year old kid with the scrawny goatee who tosses the box of condoms on top of the 30-pack of Miller Lite. Save your money, kid. By the time you finish that beer, those condoms won't be necessary.

Today I witnessed a new character. A small little man. Glasses. Rather effeminate. I classified him as harmless. That is, until I looked at his items. Lawn & Leaf garbage bags, nylon rope, a chef's knife, and a bag of fun-size Snickers.

Holy Mother of All That is Good and Pure.

I'm pretty sure I stopped breathing as my eyes cast furtively left and right, looking for a way to gracefully get myself as far away from Stuart Serial Killer as possible. I feigned a need for a Diet Pepsi and quietly got into another line.

I threw my Always pads, Tootsie Pops, and microwave popcorn on the belt. PMS'ing and irrational? That's a good possibility.

But I wasn't taking any chances.