Thursday, October 18, 2012

The Guy In Walmart

His badge stares me in the face, but I refuse to look at it. What is his name? I don't want to know, but for some reason I keep checking him out. Not purposely though.

The first time I went in Walmart I asked the Asian lady for help. The toilet had overflowed and plungers were not in the household section. Why did she not know English? She directed me to him and his co-worker. Damn, I had the attention of two men. They didn't seem to be busy, but that's probably because it was the middle of the night. They helped me and finally I thought I was prepared to get the crisis over with.

Then there was another time I went to grab household items. He was there walking the aisles doing his job. He caught me looking, but didn't say anything. Just stared. Damn, I had become recognizable. Or was he looking because I was looking? Complicated thoughts.

So many Walmart trips. So many familiar faces. For some reason after midnight there is only one line open. The same person works that one line every single time. Then there are the two employees who don't/barely speak English. They are no help at all. Then there are the two young black men. It's the same at every Walmart. Sometimes I run to the one located down the street from my job. It's convenient. Other times, like when I need emergency cleaning products, there is the one down the street from where I live. He works at that location.

He's short, but still much taller than me. He's skinny, but like all other men he probably has a healthy attitude. Tattoos decorate both his arms. There must be some kind of addiction there. He's very helpful compared to the non-English speaking Walmart employees. I've been single too long, so that's the only reason he catches my attention.

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