This is a blatant repost from March 2006. And even worse, not even a theologically oriented repost. I was re-reading it recently and was reminded of how funny it was. I thought I would share if you all haven’t read it yet.
Thursday morning I jump in my car to head off to work. When I went to start the engine, all I heard was the worthless click,click,click, click of the alternator refusing to turn over. I tell you, nothing is more disheartening than when you are all dressed up ready to get to work with a busy schedule on your mind and the battery is dead in your car. Thankfully, I had a friend who swung by to give me a ride and we decided that after work, we would take the old battery out of my car and swing over to the Wal-mart Supercenter and exchange it for a new one.
Now, my wife and I have been spending a lot of our shopping time at the Wal-marts here in the lovely Santa Clarita Valley. We have actually gone out of our way to shop there,because doing so sticks it in the eye of the Californian organized labor union thugs who have been waging a losing battle against Wal-mart ever since corporate headquarters announced years ago that they were going to begin opening Supercenters in California. I know everywhere else in the rational world normal people are used to shopping at Supercenters, but here they are rare because California’s hippy socialists have poisoned the gullible minds of the unwashed masses with anti-Wal-mart propaganda. Never the less, Wal-mart has prevailed in opening Supercenters, and one of the newest just recently opened a couple of miles from where we live.
The Supercenter is a sweet, lovely facility, well organized and fun to walk around in. The convenience of being able to do the family grocery shopping, along with non-grocery related shopping is wonderful. Walton was sheer genius with thinking up this combination.
However, there is a strange phenomenon that takes place the moment we pass through the front portals into our Supercenter: all of the store associates (Wal-mart slang for “employees”) lag behind everyone else by 1 or 1 and 1/2 seconds. I am convinced the phenomenon can be explained with either one of two scenarios:
1) Either a black hole, or some other unknown graviton distortion sits at or near the center of this store so that it has fragmented the time continuum,
2) or Wal-mart has transplanted the entire farming community of Grubbs, Arkansas, here to Canyon Country to operate the facility.
Seeing that the transplanting idea is financially unfeasible, it has to be a black hole or graviton distortion.
The distortion manifests itself in a couple of ways. First is the obvious lag time I mentioned. This is most noticeable at the check out area where there is perhaps a concentration of gravitational sheer. For example, when my wife places our items on the conveyor belt to have them scanned, the checker picks up an item, slowly turns it around in his or her hands as if scrutinizing the item, then scans it, then slowly turns it around again, and then places the item in a bag, then double checks what was printed on the receipt. If we purchase towels or clothing, the checker takes a good 30 to 45 seconds to look the item over, folds it neatly, and then lays it slowly in the bag. The entire check out process takes at least 6-8 minutes longer than what is normal at other giant box stores where we shop.
A second manifestation of the graviton distortion is the disruption of the associate’s cerebral cortex. I reckon the prolonged exposure to the black hole, or dark matter, or what ever, has a debilitating effect upon the brain so the associate cannot properly reason or make common sense judgments, and again, this is more pronounced near the check out area.
For instance, Wal-mart takes product coupons. My wife will pick up some items for which she has coupons, and when the checker rings up the items and scans the coupon, a little slip of paper spits out of the register that reads something like, “This item is not recognized as matching with this coupon,” or something along those lines. My wife kindly responds by pointing out to the checker that the purchased item and the coupon are most certainly one and the same and there is a mistake, but the checker just freezes with a glassy stare, like looking into the eye of a chicken. After a 1 or 2 second pause, the checker will respond with something like, “But the slip of paper says…” to which my wife has to nicely ask for a manager. The checker once again freezes with a glassy chicken stare, and then after a couple seconds pause, turns on the flashing lane light that slowly blinks out an indication to a manager that a woman is questioning the slip of paper.
My experience buying my new battery went along similar lines. Once my friend and I arrived in the automotive department to look over the batteries, I had a question about whether it truly was a dead battery or maybe I had some other mechanical problem. The sign where the batteries were displayed told us that Wal-mart will test batteries for free, so I went to the register to ask about getting it tested. The black hole must have caused my friend and I to be out of sync with normal time-space, because from our perspective, no one was around. In fact, it looked as though we were the only ones in the entire store, but more than likely we were occupying the same space, but just in a different time frame. Then, out of no where, an associate walked by, stops, looks at us, and then after a second or two pause asks, “Have you been helped?”
Associate (responding with a statement that sounds like a question): “I don’t think we test batteries?”
My friend says, “Well the sign says you guys do; see right there.”
Couple of seconds pause.
Associate: “I’ll have to go get my manager.”
He then disappears down an aisle, never to be seen again. I guess the disruption of the time continuum may have opened a wormhole that sent him a week into the future or something.
Any how, a little bit later, another guy comes around and I ask him about testing the battery. A couple of seconds pause. “Oh, yeah, we can do that. Do you have the battery?” I show him my battery in my cart. He then calls another guy to go test the battery. The other guy wheels the cart with the battery outside and he too disappears, this time with my battery. Wormholes were opening up all over this place. Eventually word got back from the netherworld to us that the battery was in need of replacement.
Finally, I get a new battery and when I arrived home, I DISCOVERED THAT NEARLY TWO YEARS HAD ELAPSED!!!
Stupid theory of general relativity. Well, at least my car starts now. Maybe I can go back to Wal-mart and see if I can locate a wormhole that will take me back to where I started.