|  Bob Batz Read Bob's bio and previous columns April 10, 2009 The Store Owners’ Evil Plot Against My Wife The other day, my first wife Sally and I were pulling into the parking lot at one of those sprawling super stores that are so popular nowadays, when she said, “You just watch because it’ll happen here, too,” she muttered. “Huh?” I replied, turning to gaze at her.
She had a determined look on her face. “You mark my words that when we get inside this store all of the stuff I want to look at will be in the back of the store.” I smiled and said “How in the heck do you know that?”
She scowled and replied, “I know that because every store-owner in America puts the stuff I want to buy in the back of the store.” Sally pulled a piece of paper out of her purse. “Look at this list!” she said, shoving the paper in my face. After narrowly missing two cars, a sign post and a fire hydrant, I eased the car into an empty parking spot and started reading the list. “Aspirin, shoes for me, toys for the grandkids, sweater for me, bedsheets, coat for me . . .”
“Do you know where all of the items on this list are going to be located in this store?“ Sally asked.
“Ah . . . no, but given the fact I’m a guy who often forgets his own age, zip code and Social Security number, is that really surprising to you?” I replied. She frowned again. “That’s just about what I expected you to say mister smarty pants,” she snapped. Then, after a brief pause, she added, “Don’t you see what’s happening here? Don’t you see it’s a massive plot by store owners?” I shook my head, then, after a brief pause, said, “Let me get this straight. Are you saying store owners have banded together to purposely put certain items you often buy as far as possible from the store’s front doors because they want to force you to . . . to . . . walk longer distances?” “You betcha, buddy,” she snapped. “Otherwise, why would every store put the items I like in the back? Huh? Huh? Huh?“ Then, as we made our way to the back of the store, I remembered something. I remembered that the last time we had a major argument it was in a discount store.
It all began after she spent at least six hours studying greeting cards in a store’s card display. I finally tired of it all and asked, “When are we going to get out of here?”
She stopped reading the greeting card verses and said “I’m having some problems. I’m looking for a card for an 11-year-old. I’m finding cards for every age but 11.” I thought for a moment and then said “Why don’t you just buy a six and a five and we can get the heck out of here.” She didn’t speak to me for a month.
Contact Bob at bbatz@woh.rr.com.
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