The Queen of Wal-Mart

Yesterday Nathan Bransford announced a contest on his blog (NOTE: Attention spell-checker- "Bransford" is legitimate word, add it to your damn dictionary already).

The goal: Write a funny scene (in 350 words or less).

Never one to shy away from the opportunity to make people laugh so hard the milk they are drinking shoots out their noses, I channeled my inner fat lady and submitted this entry:

"The Queen of Wal-Mart"
By Rick Daley

It all started when they opened that new Wal-Mart at the corner of Renneck and Hylbly Street…you know the one, the Super Center.  I knew from the get-go it was going to ruin our community, and I was right.  You wouldn’t believe the class of people started turning up.  Rich folk from across the tracks.  Well, they was about to get out-classed by yours truly.  I am the Queen of Wal-Mart.

I saw her from the checkout line.  She was easy to spot ‘cause of her lack of fashion sense.  She didn’t wear nearly enough eye makeup and her hair was too short to pull back with a scrunchy.  Her clothes fit all loose…If I had hips that tiny I’d wear Spandex every day.  Course I do wear Spandex every day but that’s beside the point. 

She was in the produce section, her son standing next to her pulling on her skirt and pointing to the display of chips.  She kept pushing his hand away and picking out vegetables, which is just dumb because the chips were buy-one-get-one-free and vegetables just suck.

I snapped when she said “No” so loud even the people in line 18 heard her and then she dropped the carrots in the cart.  Not even proper carrots, so a kid can nibble on one like Bugs Bunny and then spit that nasty shit out.  She had baby carrots.  I hate those things and everything they stand for.

I marched over, footsteps thundering so hard they made the Muzak skip.  I grabbed that poor boy away from her, grabbed two bags of chips, and carried him back to the checkout line.

She followed me and kept looking back at her cart all protective-like, as if someone was actually gonna steal her vegetables.  Not in this Wal-Mart, sister. 

She got the manager, who took my side until she explained that it was actually her kid.  Apparently they got laws that let rich people abuse their kids, so I had to give him back.  But the best part?

They let me keep both bags of chips.