Sunday, November 04, 2007

I lost my paycheck and my mind inside the House of Wal

“I lost my fifty-two thousand dollar paycheck and you’re gonna help me find it.”

Crazy people and Sunday mornings seem to go together like a horse and carriage – or like a straightjacket and a mental patient – or like bitchy comments and “in the style of” posts.

I drag in Sunday morning after a hard day’s night spent praying to Ralph on the big porcelain phone. Thank you, bad Chinese food. I will never eat crab rangoon at a strange Chinese buffet again – as long as I live. I’m sucking down the Gatorade and the water and feeling like my stomach is playing host to the Mexican Jumping Bean Olympics of 2020.

The absolute last thing I want to get is a briefing from the overnight supervisor about “this crazy man.”

OK. There’s a crazy man. Par for usual at the Wal-Mart. Here’s the story so far, from the overnight supervisor, who is Haitian, and English is her third language, and she had been dealing with the man for three hours and was completely fed up with him.

“This man, he crazy. He come in at 4 a.m. He say he lose a paycheck for $52,000 in the store. I tell him I not find it. I tell him to call de cops. He tell me he have to have it and to close de doors and not let anyone out. I tell him it not my fault he lose things.”

“He tell me he a doctor and this his check for just one week. I look at him and he look drunk, like he not right in the head. I tell him I look for de check, but I not find de check and he need to go where he was in the store and look for the check.”

She is basically in tears at this point, because apparently the man kept coming up to her every half-hour all night and asking “Did you find my check? Did you find my check? Did you find my check?”

All she could tell him was “No” and all the while she is thinking “It is not my fault you can’t keep up with a check allegedly for $52,000.”


The overnight girl goes home. About fifteen minutes later, I get my first look at what all the fuss is about. So help me Shiva it looks like something that escaped from an insane asylum.

A man in scrubs and dirty tennis shoes comes around the corner, followed by a woman in one of those wheelchair carts. He had bloodshot eyes that had seen the bottom of many a bottle of Jim Beam and was likely on a first-name basis with Captain Morgan, Jack Daniels and Johnnie Walker. He had an odor that came from no emergency room. It came from sleeping in the clothes you wore to bed again and again and again and again. I don’t even get time for a “How can I help you?” before he blurts out “DID YOU FIND MY CHECK YET?

ME: “No sir. Why don’t you write your name down and we can call you if we do find it?”
HIM: “I don’t want to do that.”
ME: “Okay. Well, you can call or come back tomorrow.”
HIM: “I WANT MY MONEY. MY MOTHER NEEDS THIS STUFF.” What did Mommy Dearest having her cart? Some white bread, some skim milk and some strawberries.
ME: “OK. Like I said. You can write down your info, call, or come back.” Because I for one already think you’re crazy.
HIM: “I’m a doctor. That’s my paycheck for A WHOLE WEEK.” Seriously. $52,000. That’s a lot of scratch. And he really wanted me to know that it was his check for a WHOLE week.
ME: “OK.” Not giving him anything to work with.”
HIM: “I’m going to go walk around some more.” Because if walking around looking for this mythical check for three hours hasn’t turned it up, walking around some more will surely help.

And he rolls off.

At 7:45 a.m. he’s back. With Mommy Dearest in tow. She’s added a five-pound bag of potatoes to the mix – totally crushing the bread.

ME: “No.” Probably because this check only exists in your mind. Your fevered, deluded, drug-addled mind.
HIM: “Oh. Because I thought someone might have turned it in.”
ME: “Not yet.”

Off he goes again.

Repeat two more times until about 9 a.m.

At at the 8 o’clock check-in, Mommy Dearest has added a package of marshmallows and a jar of peanut butter. Oh, and I forgot to mention she’s wearing a gigantic floral muumuu the likes of which could keep any botanical garden in business for five years and which would make Alan Titchmarch and Charlie Dimmock blush with shame for the flowers that died in vain for that piece of fabric.

At the 8:30 a.m. check-in, there's a package of sliced cheese, a box of tampons and some adult diapers. LOVELY!

He also manages to bug the morning supervisor, the cashier on Register 14, the girl in Jewelry, the morning accounting associate and most of the morning sales associates. People keep coming up to Customer Service and asking “Is that man crazy?” Well, yes. But he’s not threatened anyone yet, so management won’t throw him out. Nor has he tried to steal. He’s just wandering around like a lunatic.

Around 9:15 a.m., I go out for my break and I see this man haranguing the girl at the self-checkouts down by Register 20. I’m thinking. “Geez man. You seriously need to give it up. And it would really help your cause if you didn’t look like a patient instead of a doctor!”

When I get back from my break – he’s back at Customer Service raising a racket with the girl who replaced me, telling this same old tired story for what has to be the 70th time since about 4 o’clock this morning. “I had a check, a paycheck for $52,000, it was everything I made for this week. I need to cash it.” The girl is looking at him like he’s crazy.

Which. You know, BECAUSE HE IS CRAZY!

He finally gives up and starts piling the stuff from Mommy Dearest’s wheelchair cart onto the counter. “Can you check us out? I guess I’ll just pay with my credit card.” You know, because you HAD TO CASH THAT CHECK!

Seriously. We sell scrubs at Wal-Mart. Anyone can claim to be a doctor. And if you seriously make $52,000 in one week, what the hell are you and your crippled mother doing shopping at the House of Wal?

Chalk another one up in the insane lunatic column at the House of Wal!


Grumpy Housewife said...

If I made $52K per WEEK?

Not only would MY paycheck be direct deposited, but I would NOT be shopping at The House of Wal. Not to be a total snob, but really, if you make that much money, why the hell WOULD you shop at The House of Wal?

$52K paycheck. Lost in Wal Mart. Uh huh. And I have a lovely bridge I can sell you, too, if you are willing to buy that story.

Anonymous said...

"Hello Payroll department....yeah
I misplaced my check... Can you reissue it and put a stop payment on the last one? Good... Also I need to signup for direct deposit and book a trip to someplace nice....with padded walls..."

High-Maintenance & Hostile Heidi said...

Omigod, I'm laughing so hard, I'm practically wheezing.

This is hilarious! "I lost my $52,000 DOCTOR'S paycheck in WAL-MART."

I wonder how he came up with that amount? If he comes back, tell him to get direct deposit.

bob said...

Just your luck, next week he'll be back with a check for a similar amount, and be made when he learns that you don't cash paychecks over $1,000. Or in crayon.

What kind of a credit card did he have: Amex Black or Green Dot?

Anonymous said...

All I keep thinking is, "Didn't the skim milk go sour in the time they were walking around looking for his 'check'?"

emerae said...

Him: "Did you find my check yet?"

Me: "Yes! Someone just turned it in. Actually he tried to cash it, but no one in their right mind would believe he was a doctor. I mean, he was disgusting. He looked like a crazy person. Can you believe that?"

H: "So can I..."

M: "Seriously. CRAZY! Totally freaking crazy. Like anyone who makes that much in a month, let alone a week doesn't have it automatically deposited into their bank account."

H: "Just give me my damn check!"

M: "Oh. Here you go."

H: "This is a napkin with '52 Grande' written in ketchup."

M: "Isn't it yours? It says here, 'To doctorb for WHOLE week.'"

H: "Where's the liquor aisle?"

M: "Oh, don't bother. I have some here."

H: "That's shampoo."

M: "You sure?"

FARfetched said...

LOL at both the story and the comments!

Man. $52K/week? I don't make nearly that much & it's direct-deposited. After a couple of years of putting $2.4million in the bank, I would retire.

And youdangbetcha I wouldn't be getting stuff at Wally.

Julie said...

I'd have had security very obviously following him everywhere he went until he got tired of it & left.

Oh, and it wouldn't have hurt to call the hospitals & asked if they were missing any 'doctors' from their psych ward.

Kermit~the~Frog said...

Props for the "Garden Force" reference.

Double Deezy said...

Umm... just for reference, there's a 99.9% chance he was trying to scam. Why do I say that? Most doctors don't make nearly as much as people think. Not even big time, old school, directors of surgery at the biggest damn hospitals make 52k in a week regularly. The fact that he kept pointing that out proves to me he has no clue how much a doctor even makes. Probably stole the scrubs when he ran out of the asylum.

agent713 said...

My $52.00 a week is direct deposited. Any chance what he really lost was his decimal point?!?! LOL

Matthew Robertson said...

So did he ever find his cheque?

Kristi said...

Is there a point where you can throw him out for trespassing or loitering? Just wondering.

Anonymous said...

Wow. Crazy as a shithouse rat.


chunes said...

You should have asked him which hospital he works for or something along those lines to call him out on it.

Anonymous said...

LOL this has to be the best one yet! I loved it. I would have made up a check and told him that I found it and then sent him off to the bank to cash it.Cause I didn't have that much in my till. LOL I seriuosly would have done it. And if he questioned me? I would have stuck to my guns that it was indeed his check. just for the fun of it. LOL

Jayson said...

Did you find my check yet ?!?!

Anonymous said...

Did you notice that after last week, all of your google ads are for cards. Maybe you should include a funny product, like adult diapers, in your post every day and see how that impacts the google ads.

ExVee said...

The sadder implication here is that in so desperately needing to find this alleged "check", apparently this alleged "doctor" manages his alleged "finances" so poorly that there are no leftovers from the inferred "$52,000" he made each previous week and seemingly didn't "lose" inside Wal-Mart, that he cannot even buy groceries.

Quotes enough?

Mark said...

My wife wants to know, what kind of woman needs tampons and adult diapers, apparently at the same point in her life?

Anonymous said...

Maybe the Tampons where for Mom and the Diapers where for the "Doctor" or the reverse?

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