Wilbur the Walmart Ninja

Last week I went out with my friend Liliane to celebrate our 4-year friend-a-versary.

There are a lot of reasons I'm friends with Lil, not the least of which is because she'll do awesome shit with me like celebrate friend-a-versaries. Essentially, they're a fancy date without having to put out afterwards - a major bonus when you each have three kids and little time to shave your legs. Another reason we're friends? Lil will let me say things like, "Your life must have been a bleak, meaningless existence up until you met me" and not even roll her eyes once. I'm convinced my mom is paying her to help me with my self-esteem.

But the best reason we're friends is because we have amazing shopping adventures together.

After stuffing our faces full of Italian carbs, we made our way to our special place: Walmart. As a general rule, I'm not the biggest fan of department stores. This is both because I love to shop local and also because I'm a pretentious douchecake who likes to say things like "I love to shop local." But Lil and I have had some epic experiences beyond the deeply discounted blue gates, and this time was no exception.

It started with the usual. Lil said, "I have to get a couple of things." And then I said, "I have nothing to buy, so I'll just follow you around." Nothing turned out to be hair dye, a bathing suit, two Minecraft posters for the boys, some chocolate, garbage bags and a t-shirt (I'm always proud of myself when I stay in control.) And she didn't even sneer at me when I pushed her stuff to one side of the cart to make more room for my Nothing, which was rather nice of her.

When the cashier was scanning her stuff at the checkout, she asked if Lil would like to keep the hangers. Lil said, "Yes, please."

I gasped. "You're keeping the hangers?"

"What? Of course," replied Lil.

"You're... You're a person who keeps the hangers?" I asked all shocked-like on account of being really shocked about this.

"And?" she replied, all attitude-like on account of having lots of attitude.


This.
Never do this.

I shook my head in disbelief. "I thought I knew you."

"Oh, give me a break," Lil exclaimed, rolling her eyes. "Lots of people keep the hangers."

The woman behind us said. "I keep the hangers."

"I also keep the hangers," a man interjected. "Why don't you?"

I looked around for a soapbox but couldn't find one, so I just stood really tall. "Don't you understand? If you bring the hangers home and put them in your closet then all your hangers won't match and it doesn't look good and that can just RUIN YOUR ENTIRE DAY. Also, I'm pretty sure when you throw them out they land in the ocean, and they're just the right size to choke baby dolphins."

"OMG," said Lil, laughing on account of not knowing how serious mismatched hangers and the death of baby dolphins can be.

Everyone was laughing with her. Laugh away, fools, I thought to myself. Then go home and cry at your ugly closet smeared with the blood of infant sea mammals.

"Some people keep the hangers," offered the cashier, helpfully.

I spun around to her like I was Matlock, interrogating a witness on the stand. "Do more people keep the hangers or not keep the hangers? Because I'm pretty sure I'm in the majority on this one."

The woman waiting in line was giving Lil that please tell me this is your relative and not someone you spend time with by choice look. That's because she knew I was about to hit a homerun on this one and she needed to get all her smugness in before mine suffocated it.

"I'd have to say more people choose not to keep the hangers," said the cashier, who was going to have a lot to tell her family when she got home that night.

"AHA!" I yelled loudly enough for the entire store to hear me. "See? People love matchy-match closets! And baby dolphins!"

And that's when he came up out of nowhere, y'all. 

No, seriously. One minute it was just me yelling at Lil and her posse of patrons for not having OCD, and the next minute this guy is standing in front of me at the end of the cash wearing an employee vest and coke bottle glasses that made his eyes look really big.

"Actually, we have a lot of environmental programs here at Walmart," he said in a British accent.

"Uh... wow. Hey." I replied with my head tilted to the side as I examined this most curious creature.

"We recycle all the hangers people don't bring home," said what's-his-face. I can't remember what his name tag said, but it was something like Adam or Michael, so we'll call him Wilbur.

Lil and I loaded our bags into the cart. Wilbur helped. That was nice of him.

We began walking toward the doors. "If I can direct your attention over there," said Wilbur , and I jumped because holy shit, I didn't even hear him walking behind us, "we also recycle plastic bags in that bin. You can drop them off any time."

"That's pretty cool," I said, now knowing way more about megacorp environmental efforts than I had planned to that day. Lil gave me that you did this to yourself look, and I gave her that shut it, dolphin-choker look.

We were almost at the doors. Wilbur the Blue-Vested Ninja wasn't done just yet, however. "And finally, as you exit this evening, you'll notice the recycling bins just inside the main doors."

"Right there? Gotcha. Well, this has been informative," I admitted. "Thanks."

"Have yourselves a great night, ladies," said Wilbur, who disappeared into the shadows as quickly as he had appeared.

We walked out into the parking lot, speechless for a time.

Finally, I turned to Lil and said, "I think we just got served by the eco-fairy, motherfuckah."

We said goodbye. She told me to go enjoy my matching hangers, and I told her not to murder any aquatic mammals on the way home, and later she sent me pictures of all the mismatched hangers in her house and I just about broke out in hives.

The end.