Politics, though all the headline today, as well it should be, has to take a second row seat to my experience at Wal-Mart yesterday.
My son (aka Child A), a W-M employee, and I went to lunch yesterday, which I have not had a chance to do with him in some time. Also, due to his W-M connection, Child A was a key player in the transaction that would take place after our lunch at...yes, at his old standby, Taco Bell. I had not eaten there in months so it was all good. Plus HE bought lunch. Thank you, Child A.
After leaving Taco Bell, we proceeded to Wal-Mart. I was on a mission, I told Child A, to buy a vacuum cleaner to replace our old Hoover. Child A would be able to "buy" the vacuum at employee's discount, if I fronted him the cost of the vacuum. But not just ANY vacuum. My lovely bride had already picked out the vacuum cleaner she wanted. My mission was simple...Don't come home without THAT vacuum cleaner! No problem...
So Child A and I arrive at Wal-Mart and finally located the vacuum cleaner department. As we arrived at the vacuum aisles, I was pleased to see that the three aisles were FULLY stocked with many brands and models of vacuums. While I looked for the particular "make and model" I had been ordered to purchase, Child A did a quick check on the Internet via his "smartphone" and found that the particular vacuum in question came highly rated, a 4.8 out of 5. A quick, simple purchase, in and out of the store in just a few minutes. Well, one could always hope.
We looked up the aisles. We looked down the aisles. There were THREE FULL AISLES of vacuum cleaners, including several Hoover vacs...BUT NOT THE ONE I HAD BEEN ORDERED TO BRING HOME ON PAIN OF DEATH! GADZOOKS!!!
The next thing I knew, Child A was fanning me and helping me off the floor. I staggered back to the Hoover area, supported by Child B. I began checking for airplane flights to Havana when Child A pointed out that another Hoover model that was "in stock" actually got better ratings than the vac I had been ordered to procure. And, the only way to get the vacuum in question was to order it and wait for delivery several days later.
Child A said, "Dad, you're sweating. Is everything alright?"
I remained silent for a moment. Maybe Havana was too close. Perhaps Tora Bora.
"Dad?"
Finally I said, "Child A, I am making an executive decision. This vac (I pointed to the shelf) sucks worse...er, better...than the one your mother wants. And it is available TODAY! Sold! We are taking this one home!"
Child A said, "But Mom wants the OTHER model!"
Child A indeed had a valid point, but I only hesitated a second.
"Child A," I said, "your mom and my lovely bride will just have to bring this one back if she does not like it. Let's do it!"
We put the boxed vacuum cleaner into the cart and raced toward the front of the store. I am not sure why we were racing, but it turned out to be a good thing in the end. Once we got to the front of the store, we then began the search for that mythical "shortest, fastest" checkout lane.
The first few checkout lanes we saw were either "closed" or full of people with huge carts full of hundreds of items each. Then I saw FOUR speedy lanes open just across the way. Child A and I ran to those checkout lanes. The first two lanes were occupied by customers who could not read the "limit: twenty items" signs, plus the "slowest cashier rule" was clearly in effect at those two lanes. The other two lanes were closed, of course.
Child A said, "Dad, there are three more lanes open over here!"
So we raced to the next lane. The shopper there had several items. We went to the next two open lanes, but there was not a cashier at either lane, even though the lighted numbers over the cash registers were "on." Just as we turned toward "Register 11" a young lady, obviously a cashier, ran toward us...then past us to a customer who was not even in the lane. The young lady yelled, "I can help you down here." The man followed her to Register 11. What gives?!
So, Child A and I went back to one of the other "speedy checkouts." At one of them, Aisle 13, we could hear the cashier saying, "I don't know what the problem is. It SHOULD be taking this check!" The cashier ran the check through some sort of check-reading machine again...and again. I turned to Child A. He was already moving the cart toward the next register.
"Do you speak the Spanish?" The cashier was addressing Child A and me. I was a little surprised, but Child A and I replied in unison. "No."
Believe it or not, the cashier then left the register and began polling customers and other employees trying to find a Spanish speaker to help her customer. Child A said we might as well go back to the lane where the girl was having trouble with the check. She should have fixed the problem by now. No, she was still struggling with the check machine, but the lane next to her was open. Child A pushed our cart to the register...just as "our" checker said "oh, I'll be right back. I have to help in Aisle 13." AAAAUUUUGGGGHHHH!!!!!
So our cashier went to the aid of Aisle 13 while Child A and I stood there with the precious vacuum cleaner. We waited while the two ladies wrestled with a very persnickety check in Aisle 13, then noted that the cashier that needed the Spanish speaker was through with her customer so we moved to that checkout. Guess what? No sooner did we park our cart than the cashier walked away. We were about to move again when the lady who had finally got the check to work came to our register and said she would check us out. Finally!!
And it was true. We checked out and got back to the pickup with our precious package in the cart. I did not have EXACTLY the vacuum that my lovely bride had asked for, but we had a near match. Then we were on the Loop and headed back to our humble abode, when the phone rang. My lovely bride was ready to go home, so Child A and I changed our course and drove to the hospital to pick her up. Then home.
Upon arrival, Child A assembled the vacuum cleaner and I put it to the test. I have to say, my lovely bride was pleased, because this particular vacuum sucked! It sucked hard! I am sure that some germs that had resided in our carpet since we owned the old Hoover were suddenly hit with a dose of reality. They were no longer in Kansas, anymore, so to speak.
Compared to our adventure at Wal-Mart yesterday, today's politics just had to take a back seat. Wal-Mart trumps politics.
I hope you voted today, and God Bless America.
My son (aka Child A), a W-M employee, and I went to lunch yesterday, which I have not had a chance to do with him in some time. Also, due to his W-M connection, Child A was a key player in the transaction that would take place after our lunch at...yes, at his old standby, Taco Bell. I had not eaten there in months so it was all good. Plus HE bought lunch. Thank you, Child A.
After leaving Taco Bell, we proceeded to Wal-Mart. I was on a mission, I told Child A, to buy a vacuum cleaner to replace our old Hoover. Child A would be able to "buy" the vacuum at employee's discount, if I fronted him the cost of the vacuum. But not just ANY vacuum. My lovely bride had already picked out the vacuum cleaner she wanted. My mission was simple...Don't come home without THAT vacuum cleaner! No problem...
So Child A and I arrive at Wal-Mart and finally located the vacuum cleaner department. As we arrived at the vacuum aisles, I was pleased to see that the three aisles were FULLY stocked with many brands and models of vacuums. While I looked for the particular "make and model" I had been ordered to purchase, Child A did a quick check on the Internet via his "smartphone" and found that the particular vacuum in question came highly rated, a 4.8 out of 5. A quick, simple purchase, in and out of the store in just a few minutes. Well, one could always hope.
We looked up the aisles. We looked down the aisles. There were THREE FULL AISLES of vacuum cleaners, including several Hoover vacs...BUT NOT THE ONE I HAD BEEN ORDERED TO BRING HOME ON PAIN OF DEATH! GADZOOKS!!!
The next thing I knew, Child A was fanning me and helping me off the floor. I staggered back to the Hoover area, supported by Child B. I began checking for airplane flights to Havana when Child A pointed out that another Hoover model that was "in stock" actually got better ratings than the vac I had been ordered to procure. And, the only way to get the vacuum in question was to order it and wait for delivery several days later.
Child A said, "Dad, you're sweating. Is everything alright?"
I remained silent for a moment. Maybe Havana was too close. Perhaps Tora Bora.
"Dad?"
Finally I said, "Child A, I am making an executive decision. This vac (I pointed to the shelf) sucks worse...er, better...than the one your mother wants. And it is available TODAY! Sold! We are taking this one home!"
Child A said, "But Mom wants the OTHER model!"
Child A indeed had a valid point, but I only hesitated a second.
"Child A," I said, "your mom and my lovely bride will just have to bring this one back if she does not like it. Let's do it!"
We put the boxed vacuum cleaner into the cart and raced toward the front of the store. I am not sure why we were racing, but it turned out to be a good thing in the end. Once we got to the front of the store, we then began the search for that mythical "shortest, fastest" checkout lane.
The first few checkout lanes we saw were either "closed" or full of people with huge carts full of hundreds of items each. Then I saw FOUR speedy lanes open just across the way. Child A and I ran to those checkout lanes. The first two lanes were occupied by customers who could not read the "limit: twenty items" signs, plus the "slowest cashier rule" was clearly in effect at those two lanes. The other two lanes were closed, of course.
Child A said, "Dad, there are three more lanes open over here!"
So we raced to the next lane. The shopper there had several items. We went to the next two open lanes, but there was not a cashier at either lane, even though the lighted numbers over the cash registers were "on." Just as we turned toward "Register 11" a young lady, obviously a cashier, ran toward us...then past us to a customer who was not even in the lane. The young lady yelled, "I can help you down here." The man followed her to Register 11. What gives?!
So, Child A and I went back to one of the other "speedy checkouts." At one of them, Aisle 13, we could hear the cashier saying, "I don't know what the problem is. It SHOULD be taking this check!" The cashier ran the check through some sort of check-reading machine again...and again. I turned to Child A. He was already moving the cart toward the next register.
"Do you speak the Spanish?" The cashier was addressing Child A and me. I was a little surprised, but Child A and I replied in unison. "No."
Believe it or not, the cashier then left the register and began polling customers and other employees trying to find a Spanish speaker to help her customer. Child A said we might as well go back to the lane where the girl was having trouble with the check. She should have fixed the problem by now. No, she was still struggling with the check machine, but the lane next to her was open. Child A pushed our cart to the register...just as "our" checker said "oh, I'll be right back. I have to help in Aisle 13." AAAAUUUUGGGGHHHH!!!!!
So our cashier went to the aid of Aisle 13 while Child A and I stood there with the precious vacuum cleaner. We waited while the two ladies wrestled with a very persnickety check in Aisle 13, then noted that the cashier that needed the Spanish speaker was through with her customer so we moved to that checkout. Guess what? No sooner did we park our cart than the cashier walked away. We were about to move again when the lady who had finally got the check to work came to our register and said she would check us out. Finally!!
And it was true. We checked out and got back to the pickup with our precious package in the cart. I did not have EXACTLY the vacuum that my lovely bride had asked for, but we had a near match. Then we were on the Loop and headed back to our humble abode, when the phone rang. My lovely bride was ready to go home, so Child A and I changed our course and drove to the hospital to pick her up. Then home.
Upon arrival, Child A assembled the vacuum cleaner and I put it to the test. I have to say, my lovely bride was pleased, because this particular vacuum sucked! It sucked hard! I am sure that some germs that had resided in our carpet since we owned the old Hoover were suddenly hit with a dose of reality. They were no longer in Kansas, anymore, so to speak.
Compared to our adventure at Wal-Mart yesterday, today's politics just had to take a back seat. Wal-Mart trumps politics.
I hope you voted today, and God Bless America.
No comments:
Post a Comment