Retail Re-Tales: Kenny’s Kmart Confrontation

The following is a re-post from January 13, 2019 on Zoot580.blogspot.com.

It’s been 4 or 5 years since this happened, but they keep bringing it up at get-togethers and a few times on FB.  Why should YOU all miss out on the fun?

[Warning, the following program may contain offensive language.  Expletives have been edited, as young readers may be negatively influenced, while others may be incredibly offended.  I would post this “uncensored”, but it got to be a tad excessive and though my blog is designed to be “me, in the real world”, I’m not quite ready to run people off… …not just yet.]

Ok, so after shopping in Kmart, I made my way to the checkout counters with about 10 items in my cart.  I noticed a cashier opening a new register amidst several active lines, so I made my way towards her aisle.  She turned her light on and smiled as I, and others, approached. 

Just as I turned my cart to enter, a young lady ducked beneath and past me at an angle and wedged herself in-between my cart and the endcap, bumping me aside as she threw her items on the counter.

Now I’m not one to judge people by their appearance (well, that’s not entirely true) but “judging” by her style of clothing, the chunks of ashy flesh that her tight pants painfully revealed, her assortment of jewelry and the rainbow sherbet colors in what was supposed to be her hair, all I could do was sigh and shake my head.

She shot a look back at me and then asked, or should I say ‘dared’ (quite embarrassingly), “WHAT??”

I said nothing, despite the disapproving groans of nearby witnesses.   My “you know dayum well what yo’ ignorant *ss did” face delivered the message well enough.

For the record, had she been behind me and had I noticed her in line, I would have graciously offered her my place.

“Dude,” the gentleman behind me began. “That was incredibly rude!”

“Yeah,” I remarked. “But what are ya gonna do?”

She looked back in anger and yelled (again), “You got a problem?”

[Ok, THIS is the part of the interactive video game where you decide if you’re going to reach into your satchel for the thwarting Crucifix or the sharp Wooden Stake.]

I looked her right in the eye and innocently replied, “I’m sorry ma’am, I don’t speak Hood-Rat.”

[…and THAT is what happens when you inadvertently leave the crucifix at home.  Stake, it IS.]

The “Oooohhh’s” and laughter from people within earshot aren’t worth mentioning, but it goes without saying…

“THE F*** YOU SAY TO ME???”

I looked back at the man behind me and spoke with sincerity, “I can tell by the rise in pitch and volume that she has becoming quite agitated, but for the life of me, I don’t understand because I don’t speak Hood-Rat.  Do YOU?”

He burst into laughter while the cashier struggled poorly to contain hers.  I looked down at my phone, visibly and frantically navigating through the apps with my finger as she started up-

“I don’t know who the f*** you think you talkin’ to whi’cho stank *ss-“

Without acknowledging her, I interrupted while looking down, swiping on the screen, “-Looking through my electronic translator.  Hmmm…     Spanish, German, French, Japanese…       …NOPE…     no HOOD-RAT!”

I could tell that she was in a hurry by the way she initially ran up to the front register and pulled her purse out, but it was obvious that she wanted so desperately to curse me out for a good half-hour.  By this point, people on both sides of my aisle were cracking up as I leaned forward on the handle of my cart, cocked my head and gazed at her with my “I can do this as long as YOU can” face.

The cashier gave the woman her total and she angrily slammed the money down on the counter.  That poor check-out girl.  It wasn’t fair that she had to maintain her composure and the highest level of professionalism.  Too bad her co-workers in the adjacent aisles never embraced the K-mart Philosophy because they were dying laughing.

Anyway, Henrietta the Hoodrat Heffa (aka “heifer” – yes, I’ve given her a name) continued to curse as she grabbed her change and snatched her bag to leave.

Let her go, Kenny. Behave…

Don’t…   Don’t.  

…DONNNNNNN’T!

“I REALLY need to learn Hood-Rat!” I yelled out in frustration.

“F**K YOU!” she snapped.

Before she could get 5 steps beyond her explosive response, another man in the aisle to my left yelled over to me, “Yo bruh, I speak Hood-Rat.  B**ch, GIT’CHO NASTY *SS OUTTA HERE!!!!“

It was so nice to know that the cashier now felt comfortable enough to release at her station, joining in on the riotous laughter.

Folks laughed so hard, I was afraid this pregnant woman in line was going to go into labor…

After all, we all deserve a little slice of happiness. Don’t we?

This has been a Retail Re-Tail.

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