IN WALMART, HUNTING SEASON IS--- ALWAYS-IN-SEASON.
In case you haven’t heard me say it, I live in a very small community…far from the bright lights of the city. I’m talking about down-home-country where everyone drives a pickup with a bird dog or two in-the-back. The kind-of-country where you have only-one of most-everything like: one service station, one McDonald’s, one Walmart, and one liquor store. Okay---you get the picture!
Last Sunday, shortly after 4:30pm, I discovered I was “out” of deer corn. During the day, I feed the birds of all colors and sizes while also providing food for the squirrels. I must admit that feeding my night visitors is a special treat because most of them are now so tame, they ignore me… watching them.
Since early last summer, I’ve served dinner every night to possums, raccoons, stray cats and dogs, even a few wolves. But, most awesome to watch are the three white-tailed deer who visit me about the same time every night. Knowing they’re always hungry and eat every kernel of corn...I drove to Walmart.
Pushing my cart toward the sports department, I moved at a fast pace. It’s always important that I get home before dark. Thankfully, there were very-few people in the store last Sunday evening so I didn’t have to “dance” around slow-moving people and multiple carts.
When a guy going in the opposite direction zoomed past me with an almost-empty basket…I only noticed him because he smiled directly at me. I smiled back, thinking he might be someone in the village I’d met at some time, some where. I may have thought about our facial exchange for--at most--three seconds. When I reached the back of the store, I was happy to see there were still a few bags of Deer Corn on the shelf.
Pulling my cart close so I could maneuver the thirty pounds off-and-into my cart smoothly and quickly, I had both hands on the heavy bag when I heard: “Wait, I’ll help you but first….I need you to help me.” I turned around and there was the smiling white guy from a few minutes earlier. He had pushed his cart parallel to mine and was standing less than five feet away. What got my immediate attention were his hands. Both hands were busy: One hand was holding his zipper open while the other hand was stroking his bare penis with speed and determination.
I grabbed my cart's handle and started running toward several people I could see in the distance while…at the same time…yelling: “HELP! HELP! SEX MANIAC!!! HELP ME!”
I never looked back. It took only seconds for me to connect with the manager and sales people running toward me. By then, the late forties-early fifties guy had abandoned his cart and disappeared. About ten minutes later, when I spoke with the local Sheriff and Walmart Security, I described the man to the best of my ability but...with only a smile and an erection to work with… law enforcement was at a loss. Hopefully, they can find him on in-house cameras.
The incident happened four days ago and...I still cringe, remembering it. Yes, I'm in the country to stay but.... I've decided to copy "all-them country-white boys in their pick-em-up-trucks." Like them, I've decided to arm my vehicle so I'll be ready for huntin' season... when-ever it comes along.
Walmart will continue to be my “one-stop” shopping place for basics like groceries, paint brushes, underwear, toothpaste, pet supplies and deer corn, but not---sex.
Next time I, too, will be ready for huntin' season but...inside Walmart! With my hand in my pocket and.... on the trigger....I'll be ready for any two-legged animal who dares shove his "weapon" in my face. At my age....don't doubt me.