I'm a Shop-Lifter

Oh. My. God. I'm so embarrassed!

Yesterday, we played chauffeur to my Aunty Gerdie and her grandson (my nephew Jase, pictured below). She was only over for the day and we knew we were going to be there over-night with no real plans so didn't mind carting her around town.

She went to Wal-Mart wanting to buy what she called "white rock" to add to what she has already placed on my uncle's grave. She walked up and down every aisle in the store and couldn't find it. Nor could she find an associate willing to help her. She eventually gave up and asked us to drop her off at the mall so Jase could get his McDonalds fix.

While she was waiting for us to come back and pick her up, she called home and her daughter told her that the rock was outside the store. We didn't have time to run back out there before she boarded the ferry so she gave me money to buy her "white rock". I haven't viewed my uncle's grave recently and because we were looking in all the wrong places earlier in the day, I had no idea what she wanted. I agreed to do it anyway, because nobody ever says no to Aunty Gerdie. hehe

So Michael and I go back out to Wal-Mart. All we see outside is the plant selection but we walk through it anyway. We get to the end and there are piles of soil, manure, and white marble. I thought she was referring to small white pebbles but the only thing that resembled "white rock" was the marble. I ask the guy if that was the only rock they had. He said yes. I asked him how I could buy 2 bags. I didn't see a cash box or anything nearby. He said, "Just tell them inside you buy two bags." He spoke poor English and I tried my best to get him to understand and also to understand what he was trying to tell me. I asked him if I take the rock now or come back for it. He said, "Rock is heavy. Where car?" I showed him and he said, "Bring here, I help load. Very heavy." So we brought the car closer and he helped us load the rock into the back. I asked him if I needed a ticket or something to show the cashier...he said, "No. Just tell them 2 bags rock." So off we went...to tell them.

Wal-Mart is a dangerous place. Especially when I'm with Michael. People never believe me when I say that HE is the shopper, not me. We wandered around looking, loading our basket, wasting time. We finally decide it's time to go and head for the check-out counters.

In our basket were 4 twelve-packs of Coke. They were $3.50 each. That's a good price for us so we got 4. When we were ringing up our purchases, the lady saw the Coke and asked Michael to hand her one so she could ring it up. Then she asked how many more were in the cart. Michael told her there were 3 more. I guess all she heard was 3 because when we checked our receipts on the ferry home, she only charged us for 3 even though we took 4.

Not only that, we forgot to pay for the marble.