Blake
10-16-2008, 01:51 PM
True story.
I stopped in at WalMart for a bag of ice. That was it. Normally I go to HEB or a convenience store, but I was right there so I stopped in.
I said hello to the 89 year old greeter, to which he smiled and said welcome to WalMart.
“What a nice old man”, I thought to myself.
Went through the same procedure that I have gone through 100,000 times at HEB: got my ice, went to the register, paid the cashier, got my receipt, threw it away, and proceeded to head towards the exit.
[Sidebar: yes, the stinkin’ Wal-McDonald’s beckoned me on the way out to stop in for some McNuggets, which I find both disgusting and irresistable, especially with that weird sweet and sour sauce that looks like anti-freeze, but I was in such a hurry that I was able to somehow turn away.]
I got to the first set of exit doors and saw old man greeter checking off the receipt of a lady that had two grocery carts full of everything from a kid’s bike, a 50 inch TV, steak knives and groceries which included several hundred bags Halloween candy and a 60 pack of Charmin rolls.
I figured since all I had was a bag of ice that I would walk on by and be on my way. I hadn’t got three steps passed the lady with the mega loaded shopping carts when I heard from the greeter “excuse me, young fella…..I need to see your receipt for that ice.”
I replied “I’m in a hurry sir, I just came in for the ice, so I’m sorry, but I can’t stop for you” and I continued to walk on out.
His voice got a little sterner: “Halt immediately, sir or I while have to take further measures.”
I turned around and while walking backwards so I could face him I said in a slightly sarcastic tone “well, then I guess you’ll just have to do what you gotta do, old man”.
I then turned my back again to him and proceeded to make my way out the door.
Unbeknownst to me, Old Man Greeter had taken off his blue WalMart vest, which revealed to all around, several war hero medals along with large round buttons pinned to his shirt that said strange things like “I may look old and down trodden, but I can still beat up on Bin Laden” and “I bunked with McCain in a Vietnamese POW camp and all I got was this lousy T-shirt” among others.
I had gotten just close enough to the exit and had the automatic doors open when I suddenly felt this sharp pain shoot down the back of my left leg. I crumpled to the ground.
“AGGGHHHhhh”, I wailed out, “What the hell?”
As I turned my head back to look at what hit me, there was OMG (old man greeter) standing over me. He had looked about 5’3” when I first noticed him, but he now towered over me at what appeared to be 6’7”.
He smiled and said “I need to see your receipt, sir.”
“No way, you crazy old kook. I'm in a hurry, so you're gonna have to excuse me.”
I got up to leave and no sooner had I turned my back to him again, than I felt what seemed like a hammer come down on my neck/shoulder area……again, I crumpled to the ground.
O.M.G. had jumped up and triple summer saulted his way down on me, karate chopping me like Captain Kirk used to do when he and Mr. Spock would get into hand to hand combat situations.
Infuriated, I got up and yelled out “That’s it old man……I’m gonna kick your ass” and I took a swing at him.
Now maybe I was wrong in doing so. Maybe he was wrong in stopping me. Either way, looking back, it was a bad move on my part.
In one swift, easy move, he lifted his hand up and absorbed my punch with the palm of his hand. He then grabbed my wrist, twisted me around and before I could blink, I got flipped up in the air and as I came down my face ended up smushed down and he had me kissing the big yellow smiley face on the giant front door mat.
He then leaned in and whispered gently into my ear…
“Son, I’ve been through WWI, WWI, Korea, Vietnam, Gulf War, Desert Storm and plenty of Friday after Thanksgiving shopping days here at WalMart. I still have nightmares of the shopping season of 1994.
The President of the United States has decorated me with more military awards than your grandmama’s favorite fake Christmas tree has ornaments. I’ve been shot more times than you’ve ever taken a crap and I was taking down guys like Hitler long before you were even a drop in your daddy’s obviously low sperm count.
I was body guard to Sam Walton for 40 years. I’m not working here because I need the money. In fact, if you look outside, that chauffer driving that extended 10 door Hummer limousine is waiting for me to finish my shift. I work here because I love Sam Walton and it makes me a trifle upset when punks like you try to walk in here and steal ice from this great American’s store that he built up from scratch with his bare hands.
Now I’m gonna need that receipt or else things are really gonna get nasty.”
I said “ok, let me go ask the cashier to tell you that I paid for it.”
He said “that will be just fine” and he let me go.
Now in this mere instant, with all the people that were now coming over and watching me get beat up by this old fart, my stupid pride started swelling up and I thought to myself, “ok, now I’m REALLY gonna kick his ass.”
Well, I barely got my arm cocked back for the punch before he swooped in behind me, grabbed my arm and made me punch myself in the face. Then he took my other arm and made me karate chop myself in the nads. Then he pushed me down again, grabbed my leg and proceeded to force my foot to wrap around to where he literally had me kicking my own ass.
The rest was a blur. Between the flurry of roundhouse kicks, punches, karate chops, gut busters and tittie twisters, I heard him say
“all.. [pow] ...shoppers... [boof] ...must ..[kaboom] ..show ..[rip]... their [nyuck nyuck] ...receipts ...[hi yaaah].. before ....[sploosh].... exiting [achoo]…….(yes, he even sneezed on me too).
With my face all bruised and swollen and my mouth all bloodied up, I barely managed to get out just enough words, “I…….prumisssse……I paid……for……ice……”
“Really? We’ll see about that.” He grabbed me by the ear and pulled me over to the cashier.
“Did this guy pay for the ice?”
The cashier looked me over, but had a hard time recognizing me, due to the bloody face and missing patch of hair on my head.
“uhhh...yeah, I think I remember him……”
“Well ok” said O.M.G…. “Thanks for shoppin at WalMart, sir. Please come back and have a nice day”
As I stumbled out to my car, I thought to myself “Oh……I’ll be back old man……for round 2……….. sunnavabeech”
As I got in and looked at my face in the mirror, I knew I needed to put something cold on it to keep the swelling down……..to which I came to a grim realization……I forgot the ice......Dammit.
I stopped in at WalMart for a bag of ice. That was it. Normally I go to HEB or a convenience store, but I was right there so I stopped in.
I said hello to the 89 year old greeter, to which he smiled and said welcome to WalMart.
“What a nice old man”, I thought to myself.
Went through the same procedure that I have gone through 100,000 times at HEB: got my ice, went to the register, paid the cashier, got my receipt, threw it away, and proceeded to head towards the exit.
[Sidebar: yes, the stinkin’ Wal-McDonald’s beckoned me on the way out to stop in for some McNuggets, which I find both disgusting and irresistable, especially with that weird sweet and sour sauce that looks like anti-freeze, but I was in such a hurry that I was able to somehow turn away.]
I got to the first set of exit doors and saw old man greeter checking off the receipt of a lady that had two grocery carts full of everything from a kid’s bike, a 50 inch TV, steak knives and groceries which included several hundred bags Halloween candy and a 60 pack of Charmin rolls.
I figured since all I had was a bag of ice that I would walk on by and be on my way. I hadn’t got three steps passed the lady with the mega loaded shopping carts when I heard from the greeter “excuse me, young fella…..I need to see your receipt for that ice.”
I replied “I’m in a hurry sir, I just came in for the ice, so I’m sorry, but I can’t stop for you” and I continued to walk on out.
His voice got a little sterner: “Halt immediately, sir or I while have to take further measures.”
I turned around and while walking backwards so I could face him I said in a slightly sarcastic tone “well, then I guess you’ll just have to do what you gotta do, old man”.
I then turned my back again to him and proceeded to make my way out the door.
Unbeknownst to me, Old Man Greeter had taken off his blue WalMart vest, which revealed to all around, several war hero medals along with large round buttons pinned to his shirt that said strange things like “I may look old and down trodden, but I can still beat up on Bin Laden” and “I bunked with McCain in a Vietnamese POW camp and all I got was this lousy T-shirt” among others.
I had gotten just close enough to the exit and had the automatic doors open when I suddenly felt this sharp pain shoot down the back of my left leg. I crumpled to the ground.
“AGGGHHHhhh”, I wailed out, “What the hell?”
As I turned my head back to look at what hit me, there was OMG (old man greeter) standing over me. He had looked about 5’3” when I first noticed him, but he now towered over me at what appeared to be 6’7”.
He smiled and said “I need to see your receipt, sir.”
“No way, you crazy old kook. I'm in a hurry, so you're gonna have to excuse me.”
I got up to leave and no sooner had I turned my back to him again, than I felt what seemed like a hammer come down on my neck/shoulder area……again, I crumpled to the ground.
O.M.G. had jumped up and triple summer saulted his way down on me, karate chopping me like Captain Kirk used to do when he and Mr. Spock would get into hand to hand combat situations.
Infuriated, I got up and yelled out “That’s it old man……I’m gonna kick your ass” and I took a swing at him.
Now maybe I was wrong in doing so. Maybe he was wrong in stopping me. Either way, looking back, it was a bad move on my part.
In one swift, easy move, he lifted his hand up and absorbed my punch with the palm of his hand. He then grabbed my wrist, twisted me around and before I could blink, I got flipped up in the air and as I came down my face ended up smushed down and he had me kissing the big yellow smiley face on the giant front door mat.
He then leaned in and whispered gently into my ear…
“Son, I’ve been through WWI, WWI, Korea, Vietnam, Gulf War, Desert Storm and plenty of Friday after Thanksgiving shopping days here at WalMart. I still have nightmares of the shopping season of 1994.
The President of the United States has decorated me with more military awards than your grandmama’s favorite fake Christmas tree has ornaments. I’ve been shot more times than you’ve ever taken a crap and I was taking down guys like Hitler long before you were even a drop in your daddy’s obviously low sperm count.
I was body guard to Sam Walton for 40 years. I’m not working here because I need the money. In fact, if you look outside, that chauffer driving that extended 10 door Hummer limousine is waiting for me to finish my shift. I work here because I love Sam Walton and it makes me a trifle upset when punks like you try to walk in here and steal ice from this great American’s store that he built up from scratch with his bare hands.
Now I’m gonna need that receipt or else things are really gonna get nasty.”
I said “ok, let me go ask the cashier to tell you that I paid for it.”
He said “that will be just fine” and he let me go.
Now in this mere instant, with all the people that were now coming over and watching me get beat up by this old fart, my stupid pride started swelling up and I thought to myself, “ok, now I’m REALLY gonna kick his ass.”
Well, I barely got my arm cocked back for the punch before he swooped in behind me, grabbed my arm and made me punch myself in the face. Then he took my other arm and made me karate chop myself in the nads. Then he pushed me down again, grabbed my leg and proceeded to force my foot to wrap around to where he literally had me kicking my own ass.
The rest was a blur. Between the flurry of roundhouse kicks, punches, karate chops, gut busters and tittie twisters, I heard him say
“all.. [pow] ...shoppers... [boof] ...must ..[kaboom] ..show ..[rip]... their [nyuck nyuck] ...receipts ...[hi yaaah].. before ....[sploosh].... exiting [achoo]…….(yes, he even sneezed on me too).
With my face all bruised and swollen and my mouth all bloodied up, I barely managed to get out just enough words, “I…….prumisssse……I paid……for……ice……”
“Really? We’ll see about that.” He grabbed me by the ear and pulled me over to the cashier.
“Did this guy pay for the ice?”
The cashier looked me over, but had a hard time recognizing me, due to the bloody face and missing patch of hair on my head.
“uhhh...yeah, I think I remember him……”
“Well ok” said O.M.G…. “Thanks for shoppin at WalMart, sir. Please come back and have a nice day”
As I stumbled out to my car, I thought to myself “Oh……I’ll be back old man……for round 2……….. sunnavabeech”
As I got in and looked at my face in the mirror, I knew I needed to put something cold on it to keep the swelling down……..to which I came to a grim realization……I forgot the ice......Dammit.