A Funny Thing Happened on Our Way Out of Walmart...

First and foremost, this isn't a blog about an experience I had with a Walmart so much as it is a blog about an experience I happened to have had while I was at a Walmart. There is a difference, obviously. While I've had plenty of reasons to develop a sense of disdain for Walmart over the years (case in point, this post from all the way back in March of 2011 - "Reason #340,781 to avoid Wal-Mart") I'm not going to drag the company into the mud when it's not deserved. No, this is more of a look inside the minds of the kind of people you encounter while at Walmart.

My wife & I have something of a routine on Sundays. We typically get up around 7:30 AM, get ready for church, go to church, and then when we're dismissed from the worship service we go to Walmart to pick up our provisions for the week. (Occasionally we'll have lunch out with my Mom as well but that doesn't happen every week.) We attend Cornerstone Community Church in Orangeburg, South Carolina so, of course, we go to the Walmart in Orangeburg. Could we shop elsewhere? Sure we could, but we go to Walmart because of the same reason everyone else goes to Walmart - it's convenient and, generally speaking, the prices are better there.

This past Sunday (September 21, 2014) was different than usual as that particular day we were on our way back from a brief overnight trip to Myrtle Beach, SC. Our plan was to drop off our bags at home then come into Orangeburg to get our supplies as well as pick up our dog, who was being looked after by my Mom.

It was around 3 PM by the time we made it to Walmart. I know my wife well enough to know that she wasn't looking forward to being there at that time of day. Going to Walmart early on a Sunday morning as we normally do (almost invariably we're out of church by 10:30 AM) is ideal for a number of reasons, primary among them being the fact that there aren't as many people there, meaning it's a bit easier to get in and out than it would be otherwise. Judging by the volume of cars in the parking lot, it looked like a fair segment of the population of Orangeburg had beaten us to the punch. To show you how different my wife and I are in regard to our individual attitudes about this shopping excursion, my only fear as we made our way into the store that day was whether or not there would be any good bananas left.

Because, priorities.

We rounded up our supplies (Jill gathered sustenance while I went in search of wheel & tire cleaner and other necessities), paid our bill (just over $80), and made our way to the exit. Heading out of the store I had command of our shopping cart, as I do more often than not. After having walked past the salon, the manicure/pedicure shop, and a cavalcade of oddly positioned merchandise displays (we're not certain but it appears as though some sort of renovations are being done to this store) I navigated past the first set of sliding doors, on into the void between the store and the outside world, then finally I passed through the final set of sliding doors.

Before I go further, I feel as though a visual aide is in order.

What you see here is an image taken from Google Maps of the entrance/exit we were using that day at the Walmart in Orangeburg. There is nothing unique about it as this is an example of what you can expect to find if you were to look at a similar view of pretty much any Walmart. You can see the building, the cars, the parking lot, and most importantly the white painted (albeit faded) lines on the asphalt directly in front of the store. If you weren't aware, these lines denote a pedestrian crosswalk, a construct that is also made noticeable to oncoming motorists via accompanying signage (yes, this is one of the actual signs at the Walmart in question).

For guidelines regarding how the operator of a motor vehicle is to conduct themselves when they approach a pedestrian crosswalk, let us refer to section 56-5-3130 of the South Carolina Code of Laws, which states:

When traffic-control signals are not in place or not in operation the driver of a vehicle shall yield the right-of-way, slowing down or stopping if need be to yield to a pedestrian crossing the roadway within a crosswalk when the pedestrian is upon the half of the roadway upon which the vehicle is traveling or when the pedestrian is approaching so closely from the opposite half of the roadway as to be in danger.

I looked both ways as I exited the store that day to make sure there weren't any oncoming cars nearby. I saw one to my right but it appeared to be far enough away that I would be able to begin crossing the distance from the store to the parking lot as I, being a pedestrian, would've had the right of way. As I got about halfway between the store and the lot I noticed this car didn't appear to be slowing down - it wasn't going all that fast but it also wasn't showing signs of yielding.

I kept walking.

The car slowed a bit but was still coming towards me.

I kept walking. By this point I'm probably 75% of the way to my objective.

The car keeps coming - slowly, but it's still coming.

I'm about 85% of the way across the crosswalk. The front bumper of the car (a black Ford Focus sedan, similar to the one my wife owns oddly enough) is now so close to me that I had to angle our buggy out of its path else it would've struck the cart. I stop dead in my tracks then turn my head so that I'm looking directly at the driver of the car, a black woman wearing sunglasses (the kind that make the wearer's eyes look like that of a bulbous insect). She looked back at me, expressionless - we were in something of a duel at that moment, waiting to see who would make the next move. Suddenly her passenger, a black male, shouted at me through the open window on his side of the car, saying "You need to look around!" I began pushing our buggy out of harms way and as I was doing so I pointed at the ground then said back to the passenger "It's called a pedestrian crosswalk..." It was meaningless effort, but it made me feel a little better.

I know what some of you are probably thinking. "You idiot, that woman could've run you over and you just kept walking in the road!" Yes, that's entirely possible. I could have stopped at the moment I first noticed she wasn't going to slow down and let her pass. I didn't do that because I had decided there was a point to be made in standing my ground, however chauvinistic it may have been. I'm not the one who deserves to be chided for their behavior in this scenario because the driver of that car had decided, willfully and without provocation, that she had no problem with hitting another human being with her vehicle.

Why? I'm a 34-year old white guy. I'm speaking directly to the driver of that car here - would you have been so bold as to aim your car at me if I were a black guy of the same age? (Oh yeah, I'm going there.) Or perhaps if I were a little old black lady who was just out to pick up a gallon of milk and some bread? Do you still want to run me over or do you yield? Likewise, what if it had been my wife in my place or possibly a child? Are you still alright with potentially killing someone or does the race, age, gender, etc. of your potential victim have something to do with your decision?

Would it have been worth injuring me or damaging the buggy and our groceries to say "I belong here and you don't"? I don't think there's a personal injury lawyer in this state that wouldn't have been knocking at my hospital room door had she actually done harm to me. I can only assume she would've been fine with going to jail for that act. I don't know what kind of jail time a vehicular assault conviction carries but I'm sure it's not pleasant (or so I would hope). What would her defense have been, "He shouldn't have been walking where I was driving..."?

I guess I shouldn't be surprised that people like this woman exist. I think we encounter people of poor character every day, unfortunately, but they reveal themselves in varying degrees. Sometimes they might drop an empty soda can out the window of their car, then sometimes they might cheat on their husband with one of their co-workers. Sometimes they might eat a few grapes off the bunch they intend to buy while walking around a store, sometimes they might beat their son with a broom handle when he wets the bed. Sometimes they might take an extra newspaper from the box, sometimes they might bring a pistol into a crowded movie theater. My point being to say that we never know what evil exists inside of a person until it's let loose into the world and by then it's too late. You just have to hope you're not the one who winds up on the receiving end when the levy finally breaks.

The Darndest Things Happen Inside a Movie Theater

My wife and I recently went to one of our favorite movie theaters, that being the Columbiana Grande Stadium 14, to see Man of Steel. Columbiana Grande is a state-of-the-art theater equipped with all the modern amenities theater-goers expect nowadays, including digital projection, 3D systems, online ticketing, and just about every snack food you can think of up to and including mini corn dogs by Nathan's. (They're amazing, quite frankly - get it, corn dog, hot dog, frankfurter, frank? The jokes aren't as funny when I have to explain them.) I would go there more often than we do as I've always enjoyed the cinema, however the fact that it's about an hour's drive from where we live makes trips that frequent illogical considering the price of fuel and whatnot. Unfortunately we're not blessed with a local movie theater; there was a small, 4-screen theater in Orangeburg but it closed last year, so now our only alternative for new releases is to drive to Columbia or Lexington. Aside from the exorbitant prices for tickets and refreshments, I find that the only unpleasant (albeit sometimes entertaining) thing about going to the movies is the fact that there are other people in the theater besides just my wife and I.

Typically, we tend to wait a few weeks after they've debuted to see new movies in order to allow for the initial hubbub about the thing to die down. In the case of Man of Steel, we went after only a week's passing which wasn't so bad in all honesty. Don't get me wrong, the house was nearly packed but we arrived early enough that getting a good seat wasn't a challenge. A "good seat" for us is either a spot on the end of a row or, better yet, a loveseat row (that being a row made up of only 2 seats). There are only a few of these loveseat rows within certain theaters at Columbiana Grande, hence why early arrival is necessary if you hope to get one of them. We even have a preference when it comes to which loveseat we take. One of the loveseats is situated directly above the theater's entrance, meaning you not only get a nice, semi-private section to yourselves but you also get the added benefit of a shelf upon which you may rest your snack, beverage, cell phone or what have you. Beware, though, as this shelf can be treacherous!

Case in point, for our Man of Steel screening we both got a tray of nachos. The nachos come in a bag, which is both good and bad; good in that you get a consistent, sanitary serving but bad in that you have to get the chips into the tray yourself while sitting elbow to elbow with God only knows who. I make it sound like you're having to replicate the scene from Mission: Impossible where Tom Cruise is dangling from the ceiling like a fish on a hook even though it's about as simple as can be. I'm always cautious about bag opening, though, because I'm prone to yanking them open too forcefully and sending the contents flying in every direction. Instead of having to use my lap as a staging area for my nachos, I made good use of the shelf by carefully positioning the tray in a safe zone (i.e., far enough back from the edge so that the tray wouldn't fall over thereby dousing some unsuspecting theater patron with molten cheesy goodness), popped open the bag of nachos and arranged them in my tray. Unfortunately, I may have been too eager to get to my nachos as I sent one chip flying off the shelf - fortunately, there wasn't anyone coming into the theater at that moment, so I didn't have to go through that embarrassment.

At least my spillage was minor and didn't involve liquid...

I think everyone who's been to a movie lately realizes how big beverage servings have become. This isn't a new trend, though, seeing as how the same is true of cups you get at any fast food restaurant. I got a large soda before we went in to see Man of Steel - I don't remember how much it cost but it came with free refills which is why after the movie was over I decided to get my cup topped off. One more for the road, as it were. I didn't drink all of the refill (the cup barely fit into the holder in my truck) so when we got home I brought the cup into the house and left it on the kitchen counter. The following morning I took the top off the cup and looked down into the murky, now severely watered down and totally devoid of carbonation left-over Coke. I couldn't help but wonder how much fluid that was as I poured it down the drain. I got out one of our measuring cups (a 1 cup/8 fluid ounce measuring cup) and used water to calculate how many cups my movie theater cup would hold. Turns out this behemoth, without ice and filled to the brim, can hold 6 cups or 48 ounces of fluid. That's the equivalent of 4 cans of soda. And people wonder why things like diabetes and obesity are so prevalent nowadays.

I wrote all that to say this - two people dropped their beverages during the movie, one who was near the front of the theater and another who happened to be sitting directly behind us in a loveseat row. I didn't freak out when I heard the cup hit the floor, thereby jettisoning its contents in a deluge, even though I had a bad feeling my feet were about to get wet. I can honestly say we never felt or saw as much as a dribble of cola on our row, which I can only attribute to some sort of containment apparatus separating the upper and lower rows. There's the off chance that the folks sitting behind us may have expertly deployed whatever napkins they had to try and sop up the spill. (Hopefully the victims of the other spill were as lucky as we were.) Whatever the case, I'm just glad I didn't walk out of that theater with shoes left sticky from almost half a gallon of soda.

The topic of children and movie theaters is a touchy subject. As a theater owner/operator, you can't not allow someone who is capable of buying a ticket into your establishment (a justifiable exception being people who are under the influence or who might pose a danger to themselves and others). Doing so would be contrary to everything for which our capitalistic society stands. This is why business people and theater patrons alike have to hope that parents and their children don't do anything while watching a movie that would inspire violence. I can't tell you how many times I've had a perfectly good cinematic experience get ruined by some kid or their parental unit(s). At this point, it's almost like an understood, expected casualty of war. You know when you buy your ticket that there's a chance you're going to walk out of that theater having thought about whether or not you could justifiably gut-punch a child or otherwise wish a plague of boils upon their mom & dad for having brought them out of the house in the first place.

Personally, I think parents have to know their child before making the decision to bring them to a theater. This means realizing that kids of a certain age shouldn't be in a theater, period, specifically babies or any child so immature that they stand to have an emotional outburst during the picture. Not only is this a potential distraction to others inside the theater but what are you, as a parent, getting out of going to the movies if you have to spend 20-30 minutes in the lobby trying to satiate Junior's shivering fits? It doesn't make sense from either point of view, is what I'm getting at.

Older kids who are either undisciplined or just plain unsupervised is a different matter entirely. Babies can't help that they're babies but kids who are old enough to know better and act-out anyway should be dealt with in a way that is efficient and effective. In an ideal world, they'd get one warning then out comes the duct tape (the stuff is truly limitless in its use). In reality, we're left having to wonder why their parents aren't doing their jobs. Theater etiquette should be taught at an early age, and refresher courses should be offered to adults seeing as how there are a lot of people out there who have no idea what it means to observe courtesy towards others while watching a movie.

I'm not attempting to say that I was a perfect child or that I never did anything to disrupt the moving-going experience of someone else. Sure, I acted out as a child while at the movies and even in church. You want to know what happened to me when I did? Grandpa's finger meeting the back of my skull in a flicking motion that was, in all honesty, like getting hit with a Louisville Slugger. It hurt and I didn't appreciate it at the time, but I'm a grown man and I know that if he hadn't cared enough to direct my behavior I might be in a very different position right now. My point being that children should be loved and nurtured but that they also need discipline in some form or another. How would the world be different right now if the word discipline had never become unjustifiably synonymous with abuse, we'll never know.

There's that pesky soap box again, always getting underneath me when I'm trying to write...

I just spent three paragraphs harping on why kids and movie theaters don't mix, whereas I could write a piece the size of a senior thesis as to why a lot of adults shouldn't ever be allowed to set foot inside a theater. Seeing as how the length of this blog entry is getting out of hand, instead of charging a multi-pronged assault on those theater patrons who are old enough to know but too ignorant to do so, I'll focus on one aspect of their behavior which is consistently and persistently disruptive, that being the usage of cellular phones.

Movie theater chains have done what they can, for the most part, through signage and various pre-movie public service announcement campaigns in an attempt to dissuade customers from whipping out their phone during a screening. (Not only have they made a point to state how annoying it is for someone to engage in a conversation during a movie, they've also gone so far as to tie in visibly using a phone to potential copyright infringement. Plus, they tack on the incredibly intimidating and overly emphatic seal of the National Intellectual Property Rights Coordination Center, just for good measure.) The only problem with this strategy is that it trusts people to police themselves when people are, pardon my French, assholes by in large meaning they don't care about ruining the experience of someone else. They've apparently never been distracted from a pivotal scene in a movie by the veritable spotlight that blasts upwards out of someone's lap into the darkness of the theater after they've activated the screen of their phone. I see this happen all the time and I'm never sure what's going on; that could be someone checking their Twitter feed or it could be the people of Gotham City sending out a distress signal to Batman. The bottom line here, in my opinion, is that if you're so important that you can't be separated from your phone for 2 or 3 hours you probably have no business being in a theater. By all means, stay home - the world may need you at a moment's notice!

Even with my musings and complaints about how people can affect a night at the theater, I must admit there's something about the communal experience of taking in a film together as a group (or mob, as is sometimes the case). The shared reactions and emotions are quite the thing to behold. I guess you could say that it's part of the magic of the movies. All I know for sure is that I'm glad I don't have to go to the movies by myself anymore, thanks to the cute little blonde girl I call my wife being by my side. I never do get tired of how it feels when she squeezes my hand during a tense moment of a film. It reminds me that she's there, it reminds me that we're together, and it reminds me that we'll always be connected.