If you've been following this blog, you know I love to shop at Big Lots for bargains. And if you haven't been following this blog - well hubba hubba to you.
This is my best Big Lots story yet. A classic. Right up there with the time I set my sister on fire. Drove my Camero through my parents' garage. Kissed my first boyfriend on the lips. A classic, I tell you, a classic.
Here is what happened. I was standing in Big Lots with "the regulars" - the same downtown cast of characters I see on most days. The Indian woman who covers her face with a sari, the black guy who wears a different plaid shirt with a different pair of plaid pants that don't match - ever, the older Chinese guy who holds his pants up with suspenders down to his knees, and the wheelchair lady, who spends most days knocking down boxes.
The regulars. That's us.
Well, I was standing in my favorite aisle, where the condiments are. I LOVE CONDIMENTS. Reading the label of a pickle jar, minding my own business. When, I hear this guy in the next aisle say loudly, "Woman, you are an idiot. You don't know how to shop. Buy those potato chips, or I'm going to kill you." "Harry, watch your words, Harry, I know what I am doing." I hear this woman say. Then Harry says, "Don't you tell me to watch my words, you stupid fool, you don't know anything about nothin'!"
That was it, I had my cell phone out, and I was calling the abused woman's hotline. What a jerk! How dare he talk to her that way? The Indian woman had whipped out her cell phone too. We were both busy punching numbers - not very quietly. And that is when Harry took action.
He started throwing bags of potato chips over the aisles. The nerve. I ducked to the left. Then, ducked to the right. But, a bag of Lay's bopped me on the head. The security guard ran over to make sure I was okay, and then went after Harry.
It was too late. By then, his "woman" had grabbed him by the hair, pulled him out of the aisle for all to see, punched him in the stomach, and wrestled him to the ground. "Harry, who makes the money in this family. ME. If it wasn't for ME you'd starve to death YOU ASSHOLE. Who you going to tell to buy what? I've had it with you Harry." Then she kicked him in the groin.
Ouch.
Forget the abused woman's hotline. I was in awe. As a matter of fact, the Indian woman and I started clapping. She was 'da bomb. Every woman's worst boyfriend's nightmare. The best. Okay, so the security guard took her away in handcuffs - but for a moment she was a Big Lots star.
Memorable.
And that night in respect to her, I crunched my pickles in silence.
I can just see you all going to her rescue. Everyone armed with a squeeze ketchup or mustard bottle. Maybe a hot sauce. "Aim for the eyes!" you shout. Someone lays a groundfire of gherkins so he slips as he tries to chase the woman. A barrage of croutons pelt him.
Fantastic scene. Thanks
Posted by: Suzanne Arruda | November 05, 2009 at 09:29 AM
Best story yet. I was at Big Lots the other day and nothing cool like that happened. But I was shocked you could buy a nice windbreaker there for under 10 bucks!!! Cheers to Big Lots! And to this lady!
Posted by: Nalini | November 05, 2009 at 09:30 AM
I'm going to eat some chips tonight in celebration of the Big Lots star! Another great post, Nancy!
Posted by: Vicky DeCoster | November 05, 2009 at 09:33 AM
Too funny! Great post Nancy! Thanks for the chuckle.
Posted by: Chayah Masters | November 06, 2009 at 03:14 PM
I'd like to thank all the women of America - my friend from Kansas - Suzanne. Vicky - from Nebraska. Nalini - from Los Angeles. And Chayah from Arizona.
We're all rooting this woman on. Nancy
Posted by: TalesofDowntown.com | November 06, 2009 at 03:27 PM
Hilarious, Nancy!
Here you were, simply hoping to read your pickle jar label in peace, and you found yourself in the middle of this human drama at Big Lots!
Posted by: www.facebook.com/profile.php?id=1003660585 | November 06, 2009 at 05:50 PM