Dehydrated Water, Isle 5

If you know me, then you know that I got a bread machine for Christmas (Thank you Richy), and that means that you also know that I adore this gift. I have used it about twice a week since I got it, and I just love it. There is nothing quite like the smell of baking bread permeating through the house. It makes everything feel warm and cozy and the scent is downright intoxicating. In fact, I’ve used it so much that I ran out of yeast.Besides the lack of yeast I needed some other ingredients, so I had to make a trip to Wal-Mart. And that’s where today’s blog comes from. Oh. Dear. Lord.

This is not a rant about Wal-Mart, though that would be easy enough to do. No, this is a conversation I had with an adorable employee that was maybe sixteen years old and clearly used to life being a bit sarcastic to him.

I parked on the Marketside side of the mega-ginormous Superstore and noted my parking row (it was row 8 for those of you who are taking notes) and made my way to one of the four sliding glass entryways. I knew I needed only three things, the aforementioned yeast, powdered nonfat dry milk for yet another bread recipe, and wheat flour for, you guessed it, a wheat bread recipe. All I wanted to do was head to whatever isle powdered milk was on, and then move on to the baking isle then go. I did not want to get stuck in Wal-Mart at 5:00 on a Friday afternoon. I hurried through the doors, grabbed a cart in the breezeway, and headed inside. Just inside the doorway, stood an employee in the standard blue shirt and khaki pants. I was thrilled, as this meant I didn’t have to waste my precious time hunting for dry milk, I could just get directions. How fortuitous!

As I approached the employee, I took in his appearance and at once felt a little bit motherly toward him. He was, at a guess, somewhere between 16 and 18 years old, but he looked about 14 because he clearly wasn’t growing facial hair yet. He had a head full of tight reddish-blonde curls and his skin was that pale creamy color that gets super red if  given any reason whatsoever to flush. He had a cheerful face that reminded me a little of Tom Holland and he appeared to be having a pleasant conversation with whoever he was talking to in the deli. I immediately made up my mind to approach him with my question. I didn’t much like to interrupt his conversation, but at that moment, I was older, I was The Customer, and I was In A Hurry, so I decided I was also Entitled. In a sweet yet effective manner I cut off whatever was being said between him and Deli Guy. Sorry.

I asked him, “Excuse me sir, but do you work here?” He confirmed that yes, he did work there. I’m assuming he left out “Nope, just wear the outfit because I think it’s cool” because he was too nice to say anything. Anyway, I said something profound like “Great!” and continued with my query, “Can you please tell me where I can find the powdered milk”? At once I knew something was wrong because this kid who had been sweet and smiling up to this exact point was now looking like I had asked him what the average airspeed velocity of a laden swallow was. He just blinked a couple of times and then kind of laughed a little and he blushed from his neck to his hairline. Seeing his brain begin to crumple in the confusion, I broke the silence with a laugh of my own. I said “Okay, thanks anyway” and started to move on. He finally found his voice again and asked me “Powdered Milk”? I had to laugh a little. My only thought was, Okay, I can see this kid did not grow up eating government cheese. He doesn’t even know what powdered milk is. But folks, it was so much worse than that.

Oh, this poor kid. He looked and I could see something was dawning on him. He grinned a big grin as a twinkle glimmered in his eye. He laughed a little more and looked at me ever so suspiciously and (swear to god) said “Wait, ‘powdered milk’ is that like ‘blinker fluid’?” Y’all this poor kid thought I was punking him. I laughed so hard! He had made up his mind that I was sending him on some kind of snipe hunt!

I at once remembered when I was in high school, I worked at Kroger and we used to ask the new hires to go grab us a box of dehydrated water. It was on isle 5. Those poor people would spend forever over there looking for dehydrated water. One unfortunate guy spent nearly two hours looking for it when one of us realized how long he’d been gone and sent someone looking for him. He had been so afraid of letting us down that he had spent all that time looking for it and was upset at his failure when we found him. Yes, we were terrible people, no, no one ever did it to me for whatever reason, which is no doubt why I participated in such a mean prank. That and I was fifteen.  

So, to whoever hurt this young man, please lay off him for all that’s good and holy! He was just the sweetest, cutest little thing you’d ever want to see, but bless his heart, I think he may have been the recipient of one too many pranks. I feel like I should go check on him every now and then. And just to keep him on his toes, next time I’m going to ask him to point me in the direction of the wild haggis.