Voyeur

I love people watching. Going to a really populated place like Disneyland is ripe for this and whenever I go I try to take some time to just sit and observe the folks walking by. Or count how many black socks with sandals combos I can find. Then I go nuts because crowds make me crazy and I'll have a melt-down tantrum if I don't get the fuck outta there.

Today I was in Walmart. Yes, I know, boo hiss scratch my eyes out but I'm broke as a joke and they be cheap so put on a curse on me and be done with it. And when when I'm there I'm usually so freaked by the jammed up aisles I start to scream on the inside until once again, I can get the fuck outta there.

Somehow this morning I remained fairly calm and took note of the usual freaks on parade with more observant eyes. Which is seriously the only way you can survive that fucking place because gawd damn, what a freakin' nightmare. It's almost not worth it to save 50 cents on a box of 100 calorie fake ding dongs. Christ.

Unfortunately some things I saw were disturbing to say the least but I held it together. And I do my best not to be a judgmental asshole, but I can't always help it. Like when I meandered down the craft lane looking for a supply I need and as I got about 5 feet away from an elderly Walmartian woman stocking a shelf she let out an audible and slightly impressive gurgly poot from her nether regions without so much as a glimmer of embarrassment on her face.

And as I turned my cart around as fast as possible, but not obviously so, to avoid walking through her freshly emitted ass cloud I thought to myself, you go on with your farty self old lady! That's right! Let 'er rip! You've earned the right to cough in your pants whenever you want! And then I threw up just a little.

Next I ran across an adorable young family. Young mom. Young dad. And cute little baby in the cart. Cute little boy cherub with a cute little crew cut and not so cute caterpillar eyebrows engulfing his wee little face. I know a baby can't help it but dammit, that poor kid looked like a tiny version of Groucho Marx minus the mustache. Seriously, I ran into them about 5 times and it just got worse. I feel bad for the little tyke but that was weird! I've never in my life seen a baby with eyebrows let alone big, thick, dark mini bushes crawling across his forehead. Eesh.

As my claustrophobia meter was about to go off I encountered one more oddity I wasn't prepared for. Another Walmart employee came dashing down my aisle and atop his head sat the worst toupee I've ever seen in my life. This thing looked like a road killed skunk. A pile of soiled brillo pads. A petrified wolverine. It was spectacularly awful, adhered all askew to his dome with wispy tufts of fuzzy gray hair sticking out the bottom.

I mean, my lord, is that better than being bald. Really? Looking like you have the muffs of 10 hippie chicks glued to your skull? That is preferred over a shiny pate? I wanted to pull him aside and say "Bald is beautiful, man! Throw that fried squirrel away!" But he was gone in a flash and I didn't want to get bashed in the face with discount chips.

I'm no better than anyone else and I know there was probably someone looking at me going, Oh Emm Gee, Becky, look at the size of her butt, but I tell ya, people watching is Eff Uu Enn.