Some of  you who have been around awhile are familiar with Wally M. Geezer. Wally was my alter ego under whose name I blogged for awhile. I used ole Wally because many of his rants were about Walmart and as I am still gainfully employed....if you can call it that....at said Walmart, I did not want them tracing Wally back to Moi and firing my ass.

Now, of course, I don't really care. I am close enough to the end of that road so that if they find out now and fire me, I will be able to entertain the entire staff of the store by doing a great happy dance all the way down the main isle and out the freaking door. So I silenced Wally's voice and today I take up his ranting ways as my own. Blow me, Walmart!

Why a rant today? Well glad you asked that buckoo, let me fill you in. You see children, today I had to work a different shift than I usually work.  Today they had me come in at SEVEN O'CLOCK IN THE FREAKING MORNING!

To do this I have to get up before five in the morning (after getting home from work yesterday at nine at night) in order to get ready and to drive my almost forty mile one way commute.

Add to this the fact that this is the first of the month....and a damn holiday weekend and what do you have? You have completely uncontrolled chaos, that's what you have. 

So there I stood...seven in the morning....at my post. As if some cosmic starter's pistol went off, suddenly the 500 acre parking lot was filled with cars. It was as if Missouri'sphincter muscle had lost control and suddenly shit idiots all over the front of the store.

A mad dash ensued as the horde shambled from their vehicles and, following the big, yellow feet prints management had us paint on the parking lot, they made their way into the store.

A little back-story here: Knowing that my nerves were frayed and that I was looking forward to this shift much like one would eagerily await a colonostrophy, Mel gave me one of her Xanax to take, thinking it might help smooth me out....big mistake!

So  by the time that the Attack of the Killer Boneheads launched toward the front door of the store, I was in a curious state....for me.  I was smiling. Not only was I smiling, but I found that suddenly, because of these pharmaceutical enhancements, my give-a-shit was totally broken.

In the seconds before the Tsunami shit-wave of humanity burst through the front door, I suddenly realized: "I'm gonna just have fun today."

Before you could say "Sam Walton Sucks," I was hip deep in idiots and operating in high gear. Like some whirling dervish, I danced about my station, handing out shopping carts, pulling out electric carts for the infirm, marking returns, and checking receipts of people trying to exit with their purchases. All the while I was gleefully saying exactly what was on my mind. Xanax seems to take the muffler off your mouth...who knew!

"Hey, Mr. Greeter, where can I find the milk?"

"Well gee sir, I would look for a cow first. Failing that, you might find it under "M" in the nearest refrigeration unit."

"Hey you...Greeter! My electric cart is too slow. Fix it!" This from a guy who would have to unzip the Goodyear Blimp to ride in it.

"Bout the only way I could make it go faster is to maybe install a Cummings diesel motor and sixteen inch tires on it."

And so it went....all day long....just a guy doing his job and having a little fun while he was about it. I honestly didn't give a shit whether these morons reported me or not...I was just having too much fun. I don't think I stopped grinning all day long.

Now don't get the wrong idea here. I have some really wonderful customers who come in my store. Bright, funny, charming folks who treat those unfortunate to be working that day, with common courtesy...I love those folks. The large portion of idiots however are a different story. I just decided to have fun with them.

Half way through the shift I notice this gentleman enter the store. He was fairly large but as large as he was, he was wearing a "Hoodie" that seemed to swallow him. I took notice at once because it was way too warm to be dressed in a wool hoodie. When you are a greeter, you notice those things.

Sure enough, about twenty minutes or so later, I see this dimwit walking, with some difficulty up the main isle, his hands clutched to the bottom of his hoodie as if holding onto something. As he neared the front door I could clearly see the outline of something large and square under said hoodie. The bonehead saw me looking at him and began to walk faster. Just before he made the exit, I moved over and stood in front of him, blocking his exit.

I reached out and knocked my fist against his chest and was rewarded with a distinctly solid, non-skin sound.

"Uh, pardon me sir, but you have either swallowed something very large, or you have something under that hoodie that requires a receipt to leave the store."

"WHAT? ARE YOU ACCUSING ME OF STEALING?" The man yelled as he struggled with the overbalancing load next to his chest. As he yelled at me, his load shifted a bit and I could see the bottom of a flat screen TV sticking out the bottom of his shirt.

"Me, accuse you of stealing? Perish the thought. I just thought you might not be aware of that a flat screen TV has attached itself to you while you weren't looking."

I motioned over a SCM and had her radio Security who took the man into custody and took possession of what turned out to indeed be a medium sized Flat Screen TV which he was attempting to sneak out the door with.

Like nobody would notice?

Shortly afterward the cops showed up and shortly after that they came up the main isle of the store leading the criminal mastermind, who was cuffed, out the door. As he left the store he looked over at me and yelled:

"YOU'LL PAY FOR THIS!"

"Yes sir, and I'm sure that's what your momma told your daddy!"

At this point I was overcome with a bad case of the giggles. God, sometimes I love my job! Oh yeah.....Did I mention it....I have to work the same shift tomorrow.

Oh well, as I always say: Better living through chemistry!