I'm leaving an adequate amount of space between me and the polite woman and child in front of me. They need some room to load up their thousands of items onto the conveyor belt. I'm giving them space.
The lady behind me, who is visiting our planet from circa 1984, sees no reason to leave a polite buffer zone. She jams her buggy full of Monster drinks and frozen pizzas right up my butt. I guess in an effort to push me forward. Not much chance of that now. She has two giant teen boys with her. What she doesn't know is, I'm not easily intimidated by teenage boys. No matter how tall, smelly or freakishly dressed they are, it's just a boy. I'm a momma. End of story.
I take my turn to load my purchases onto the conveyor belt, and it's at this time that she begins the deep sighing. (Now, I must take a moment to tell you when you see a plus size gal loading up a conveyor belt with diet foods, tampons, Midol and one tiny carton of ice cream, then you should realize today's not your day to screw with me.) Fortunately, her cell phone rang, and that gave her the opportunity to talk badly about me to her friend, in a loud tone.
"Yeah, we're trying to check out. Sassy lady in front of me is texting and can't move up any farther. I guess we'll get there as soon as we can... this is taking forever."
Now, I take a moment and look at the boys, who are totally mortified by what their mother (or possibly grandmother) is saying on the phone. I just smile politely, and stand. my. ground. No forward movement in this line. Not in our immediate future.
She begins loading stuff onto the conveyor belt, and in the process, steps on my foot! Thank you lady! (Now, I must spin you by that long, gross, gray braided ponytail and throw you right back to 1984 where you came from. Take those stupid pink Crocs with you!)
I just looked at her and said, 'Oh, you forgot the box of hair die.'
Which caused the boys to snicker.
Paid for my purchases and left.
People, please... leave a buffer zone in the Walmart line! It's just being human!!