A Whole Other Kind Of Stoopid.

This evening found me at the local Walmart Neighborhood Market. If it wasn't toilet paper that we needed, you'd couldn't have paid me to step foot inside that place on Christmas Eve. My worst fears were confirmed when I walked through the doors, past the normally overflowing shopping cart stall and it was EMPTY.

After securing the Charmin Ultra Soft my wife likes, (that I hate because it balls up in my butt,) I headed to the Self Check, hoping to sneak out quickly.

Ha!

The lines for Self Check were backed up into the aisles. I found the shortest and settled in for a wait. Things were going smoothly until the mom and daughter in front of me stepped up to the checkstand. They didn't have much in their cart, so I was hopeful. Unfortunately it quickly became apparent they'd both eaten glue as children. Or maybe were both dropped on their heads. Or maybe they just came from bad stock. Regardless, I'll save you the painful details, save for this one incident.

Holding a bag of two lemons, daughter was completely baffled that they didn't have barcodes to scan. Mom swooped in to the rescue and showed her how to look up produce. Daughter actually found the picture of the lemons on the screen and pushed it. Since the lemons weren't sold by weight, a screen popped up asking, "Quantity?" with a keypad to enter the number.

Puzzled, daughter looks at the lemons blankly and discovers the produce code sticker, which she dutifully enters into the screen...

4013.

Four thousand and thirteen lemons at $0.50 each...well you see, lemonade for a small army can get expensive.

The overworked and saintly Walmart employee restores order and sends the dynamic duo on their way, and I overhear daughter say to mom, "Well, I didn't know what quantity meant!"