i only wear white when it rains

Not only did someone make the brilliant decision to assign this poor turtle to the “speedy” checkout lane, but this is a place that displays hemorrhoidal ointment, anti-fungal cream, and “Warm Touch” lubricating jelly at the register scattered among the typical point-of-sale purchases including gum, magazines and M&Ms.

Now by no means am I claiming to understand the buying habits of customers who voluntarily get stampeded to death on Black Friday for $1.88 paper towels.

But is your jock itch, bulging ass vein and dried-up Netherlands really something you forget about until you happen to be standing at the cash register tossing a tin of cinnamon Altoids onto the counter?

“I came here for a gallon of milk, but come to think of it…I haven’t had a sufficiently lubricated vagina since before my cashier’s back became a complete right angle.”

I know. I know. What did I expect from a store that is the inspiration for a website devoted entirely to horrifying the world with pictures of morbidly obese women sporting ripped, lace jeggings.

Besides. Just entering the threshold of Walmart should have indemnified my frustration toward the boxed-wine-stained-tooth hag in front of me, coughing up a Camel-coated lung and unsuccessfully attempting to hide her 400 cans of mixed vegetables beneath those two tablecloths.

Ten items or fewer is a difficult concept to grasp, but it’s there for a reason.

Specifically, I have a hair appointment in five minutes, and our cashier is averaging 12 minutes per can. That might not be a math problem I can calculate without a tutor, but it was sufficient time for me to realize why the typical Walmart customer doesn’t believe in evolution.

Not sure our cashier walked upright. Ever.