WalMart math

I’d rather eat my own spleen than make a trip to WalMart. Like most of my fellow Americans, I dislike it so much because of the weirdos there (present company excluded) and the fact that there’s usually only one register open, forcing you to intermingle with the weirdos longer.

The closest WalMart to my house is one where people have been robbed in the aisles and the police are there most days. It really makes you think hard about how bad you want those cookies. But there are days when it saves you from having to drive across town, so you take your chances. Yesterday I took my chances.

In the one line that was open for 23,000 WalMartians, I ended up behind a woman with four little kids, all under the age of 6 probably. I accidentally let myself make eye contact with the woman, who immediately struck up a conversation as she was herding her brood.

Woman: You got any kids?

Me: Just one.

Woman: Just one??? Errbody needs a few of em.

Me: Mm…one is about all I can handle.

Woman: Oh girl, I got ten kids and I still want more.

Me: Ten?

Woman: Ten girl. And I had em all in just under six years. That’s why I still look good.

Me: Oh…so you had twins or triplets?

Woman: No, they all organic.

Me: Organic.

Woman: Yes girl.

I don’t know why I kept talking after this point, but you can’t help what you’re fascinated by. The heart wants what the heart wants.

Me: So…did you have premies?

Woman: No baby, they all healthy, full term babies.

Me: Uh huh…six years you say?

Woman: Yes girl.

Me: And you had them all. Out of your body?

Woman: Yes baby. Organic.

Organic.

Sooo…she grew the little shits in a garden? She didn’t use pesticides on them? They’re a new strain of living creatures? What does it all mean?! What, oh WalMart lady, are you talking about?! And how do organic children explain how she managed to stuff ten kids into six years?!

I thought about it most of the evening. I desperately attempted to crack the code of what her hillbilly ass was trying to say to me, but to no avail. The meaning of the word organic was lost on her somewhere and had taken on a whole new meaning. And apparently, her reproductive system had switched over to a more efficient, production-line type of setup.

Why is it that smart people are not making the move to the new and improved, organic production line uterus?

If any of you can explain to me what you think she meant, I will buy you a pony. Otherwise, be careful out there. You never know what you might run into. WalMart; keeping it real.

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11 thoughts on “WalMart math”

  1. Something tells me we go to the same Walmart. While standing in line, someone asked me if I like kids. Turns out they sell them in Aisle 32.

  2. By my math, four had to be Siamese twin pairs. Which might be possible if you eat enough of those WalMart hotdogs with that Jersey “cheese”. Did she by chance have reading glasses in her shopping cart?

  3. a. She got pregnant right away again after each delivery.
    b. She can’t count.
    c. Both

    And one of the things I love about New York City is that, so far, we have been able to keep Walmart out of here.

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