Check Please!

Well, April and I had a nice day. Her school was closed due to the weather, so about lunch time, when it was above 40* out and the plow trucks and salt trucks had run their routes, we decided to get out and about. Not sure why the schools needed closing, but hey, whatever. We really did have a nice day overall, getting caught up on shopping and hanging out, but man on man, did I ever mess up.

I went back to Wal*Mart. This time it was bad. Real bad. Sorry for the negative blog, but I was a bit miffed. Anyways, here we go.

I swear, this is probably only about the 5th time I've been there in calendar year 2008. I absolutely hate that place, and I will pay a little more to buy elsewhere. Don't ask me why, but that is just how I am.

At any rate, here's today's Wal*Mart story.

I was in the sporting goods section. The item I was looking at was directly next to the air rifles, etc. There is a scruffy (I'm being generous) man in a wheel chair next to his equally scruffy (politically correct enough?) looking wife(?). I can't help but overhear their discussion because they are having it loud enough for people in the parking lot to hear. They were having a problem April and I had shortly after we moved into our house; there were stray dogs coming around causing trouble. They were debating which particular pellet gun would be best for their problem. April and I bought the cheapest one we could find, and after only a few shots the dogs recognized it on sight and knew to run, and shortly thereafter knew to avoid our yard at all costs.

The debate is that they guy wants the expensive one, and his wife is uncertain if it will do the trick. The guy tells her that 'a .22 with rock salt would' well, I won't finish what he had to say, but sufice it to know he thought it would be suprememly effective. I was on the verge of relating my story to them, hoping to aid in their finding a cost effective solution to their situation (it is Christmas, afterall).

Then the following words came out of Scruffy Guy's mouth: "Course, you ain't a felon like me so you'll have to buy me dat gun." And with that, they turned to the gun counter and asked to see that little Marlin .22 behind the register. Check please. I'm glad I kept my mouth shut. I'm not sure what the rules are RE: pellet guns and felons, but I know my policy about getting involved with people attempting to commit a fresh one. Check Please! I'm outta here.

I briefly toyed with the thought of telling the lady at the counter about the man's admission of conviction, but again decided I was better off distancing myself from the whole situation. Besides, TN does a computerized background check on people wishing to purchase firearms (I assume that goes for all firearms, not just handguns, but I could be mistaken). Surely somewhere in that computer network would be a note about this lady hanging around with a known felon in a wheelchair right? Right?

Check Please. No more Wally World for this guy.