The end of a saner-than-most trip to Walmart....

The cashier
was a short, squat lady.
The human
equivalent of a fire hydrant.
"Homely" looking
with her shoulder-length dirty
(and I mean dirty)
blonde hair
in a lazy ponytail.
She was probably in her late twenties
was into science fiction
movies, video games
role playing.
Maybe a tall, obese sasquatch
for a husband.
Maybe he has a ponytail
too, and a goattee
    also into science fiction.

Good people.

The customer in front of me
was an  immigrant or tourist of some sort.
Not Mexican
            or Hispanic
                        or Latino
of any kind.
Middle eastern
or some kind of European.
Hard to tell.
He spoke with a indecipherable accent
and the cashier would make awkward quips
that weren't really funny to an American and were even
less so to someone who didn't know the finer intricacies
of rural, colloquial
southwestern American English.
When she wasn't coining new witticisms
she was nodding dumbly
at whatever it was the visitor was
saying.

When he was finished,
he grabbed his bags and took off for the
south entrance of the store
which was on the opposite end of where
we were.
But he left a jug of milk
and right as the cashier was to begin ringing up
my stuff
she grabbed the milk and took off in a dead
sprint toward the man and the south entrance
hollering

"Sir! Sir! Con leche! Con leche! Sir!

CON LECHE."

I stood there
probably with a look on my face
that suggested
I had just bared witness
to a Chupacabra that had run into the store and took
off with $200 worth of electronics without paying
as half of the Wal-Mart employees
chased after him

Several moments went by like this. Then

From the north entrance
the one right next to our aisle
a man marched in.
Literally marched.
At first glance he seemed
square. Tall, thin and blonde.
Clean shaven. A polo shirt, eye-glasses and khakis.

But something was off. Something didn't seem
right.
      The look in his eye. Yes! That's it.
They were red with fury.
               Two twisted strawberries
ready to burst.
          His skin tone matched
and his entire person was so tense
it appeared as if his skeleton would
explode out of his mouth at any moment
and
         finally
it  did!

In the form of a growling wail.

"WHERE THE FUCK ARE YOUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUU!!!!"

He hollered.

He stood there for several moments
his head swiveling from side to side
looking for whomever he was
       yelling at.
His hands extended at his sides
his legs spread lightly more than shoulder-width
apart.
               Chest heaving with a barely-contained
ball of exasperation and anger. Then

he turned
and walked back through the automatic
doors.


No one in the store seeming to have noticed
other than myself and the greeter
at the north entrance.

The cashier returned with the
jug of milk still
in her hand.

"Mexicans sure do walk
fast. It
must be all that farm work they work
so hard at"
She said, thinking herself funny
once again.

I nodded.

Must be.

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