at Wal-Mart

I just now got back from Wal-Mart, and you know.. even Wal-Mart holds adventures to be had! After hearing where I was headed, Mom, of course, hands me her list of things to get. One of the items on the list was dog food. Fine... no problem. I took Jolene with me so I wouldn’t have to go alone.

Franklin has a new Super Wal-Mart, and so when you walk in the door, it has one of those whooshy heaters that makes lots of noise, which in turn makes it hard to understand what anyone says to you. So that is why when I told Jolene to get a hand-held shopping basket, I couldn’t understand her; nor could I understand what the Wal-Mart "greeter" said to me. Jolene had said something to me first, but at the same time I was aware that Greeter had also said something to me. You know how you furrow your brow and squint your eyes and say "What?" in a very puzzled manner when you don’t understand something? Well, that’s what I meant to say to Jolene when I heard her say something about some dog. I thought she had said, "Do you think I’m your dog or something?" and I thought that was very much out of line...especially in a public place.

Sadly, I instead mistakenly said it to Mr. Greeter, and since I was headed in his general direction anyway, I was basically in his personal space before I realized what was happening. Not exactly in his face, dear old man that he was, but..... So in answer to my query, he said, very much astonished, "I said... how are you?" (Picture this..) "OH!" I said intensely, eyes getting wider by the minute, brow still furrowed, mouth in perfect "O" formation, "I am fine! And how are you?" "Fine, fine," he said. By this time, Jolene had caught up with me, basket in hand.

He grinned at me, then said, "You can just shop as late as you want to tonight!"

"Why, thank you!" I replied, still amazed at myself, and trying hard to be as friendly as possible. Well, then as we walked off, I started laughing and threatened to clobber Jolene who feigned all innocence. I asked her what in the world she had said to me in the first place. So she told me. "I just asked how you were going to carry two bags of dog food out in the hand basket is all."

Uh oh. Now there's a problem. So I made us do a fast turnabout and roared back up the aisle to where the same Greeter was standing watching us return. There were some shopping carts lined up in the main aisle there, so I grabbed one and told Jolene she had to take the hand basket back up to where the others were stacked. She was not impressed, but what could she do when she wasn’t in command? I abruptly turned my back, so she was the one who had to face Mr. Greeter. She told me later that he said, "Well, now you won’t have to carry all your stuff."

Holiday Flight

I am now officially beginning my two-week long Christmas break. I flew home yesterday afternoon after first driving four hours to the Kansas City Airport. It’s disgusting that it still takes about eight hours travel time even if I fly, but I guess at least that way I don’t spend so much time on the road. Traveling on holidays though, is not what I’d call fun, but my! What an adventure! I find it so interesting to observe people and what better place to do it than in an airport? And there were so many people and so many lines!

When I was standing in line to board the airplane, there was an old couple standing right behind me. The lady was so tottery and worried-sounding. I’m not even sure what all they were discussing, but the man very cheerfully hugged her as he said, "You just hang on to me, and you’ll be ok." Now isn’t that sweet? He then proceeded to explain everything to her... Procedures, reasons, airplanes, and much more. One thing I remember him telling her about is the reason for preboarding. He said, "It’s for people who need special assistance or people in wheel chairs." As he patiently explained this to her, I noted their own frail conditions and was ashamed for being so impatient at having to wait. Even as I’m sure they were, I’m glad I don’t need "special assistance," even though the guy at the ticket counter seemed to think I did.

"David" seemed to just be so glad to help a little ignorant "Amish" girl find her gate (as if I hadn’t been through this procedure umpteen other times). But I obliged him and played along as he told me, pointing so as not to confuse me, that my gate was to my left and "See that long line of people?" Uh huh. "That’s the security line you need to go through" (very slowly and distinctly pronounced so as not to lose me along the way). Oh ok, I solemnly nodded. I found it rather amusing, but with as many rude people out there as there are, I certainly will not complain about overly helpful "David." And in fact, when I found myself standing in the line going to Orlando only minutes later, I did feel slightly more "Amish" than I thought I was.

What I don’t get is that everybody thinks they have to take as much carry-on luggage for the overhead bins as possible and even more, even though the airline stresses "Thank you for not being a bin hog." Now what kind of sense does it make to take a huge old suitcase up top when there’s room for 300 more just like it down below? And most of the women have to take a shopping bag full of Christmas presents. It just doesn’t make any sense, and I’m rather fond of things that make sense!

After a long wait in line, I finally found myself seated in the very first row with more leg room than I normally have. I was one of the first thirty people to board, and we had a full flight. So there were many people to watch as I waited for take-off. There was a lady that came on board the plane whom I was thankful I was not traveling or associated with. I would have been embarrassed, to put it mildly. Southwest has open seating which means first come, first serve (which is how I wound up in the first seat). She picked a seat across the aisle from me, then proceeded to bend down to carefully examine and rearrange her shopping bag’s contents for which there was no more room in the immediate bin vicinity. She had black tights on and a very short skirt, but that didn’t keep her from taking up residence in the one and only aisle. Oh no. "Sticking out" is what I’d call it.

It was rather amusing to see the people in line behind her suck in bellies and become human spaghettis carefully skirting around one very parked rear end. A stewardess finally told her she had to sit down, but no.. She ignored her and went ambling on down the aisle to try to find a home for her very large shopping bag. So the stewardess chased after her, grabbed hold of her arm, and very firmly told her to go sit down and she would help her find a resting place for her merchandise after the rest of the people were boarded. So She sat down, thoroughly
surrounded by one very large shopping bag on her lap and one equally large carry-on luggage item at her feet. Now if it had been me, I would have been trying very humbly to be as tiny as possible, but her? Oh no, she peered up above the back of her seat... Looking, looking, looking... Scanning the entire airplane.

Unbeknownst to her, she had, in the meantime, dropped her ticket out into the aisle which the stewardess was kind enough to pick up for her before it was trampled to shreds. She finally told the stewardess that she "wants to find another seat." She eventually found a happy resting place farther back. I just shook my head in amazement even as a very large man chose to sit beside me and took up 1/4 of my seat plus all of his own. His zipped-up coat immediately ballooned up upon "seat touchdown;" I was tempted to pound the air out of it, sort of like you do a pillow that isn’t in just the right shape. I refrained and instead helped him fish his seatbelt out just like a Christian servant should do. ( When I saw him descending, I had quickly tried to get his seatbelt out so that he wouldn’t sit on it, but I had to get my hands out of the descendant’s way, and so the seatbelt had flopped back down onto the seat. So I waited until he lifted his left "side" up, and I helped him by squishing myself up flat against the window to give him more room to maneuver. Can’t have any of this groping business, ya know. Not on this trip!