Vacation, day 4. The Ice Nazi.

So Illinois doesn’t like our sense of humor.

After a significant battle over who trumps whom (Subway vs. Arby’s), Brian and I spent about an hour working through our WalMart checklist.  (You know… full length mirror, mouthwash, groceries… all the important camping necessities.)

We chitchatted with our friendly WalMart cashier (a clear sign that we are NOT in Northern Virginia anymore) and exited with the intention of grabbing the two bags of ice that were rung up at the register.  Except there was one problem.  A sweet, little old lady, whom I will affectionately refer to as the Ice Nazi, scanned over our receipt only to find that *gasp!* ‘ice’ was nowhere to be found.

Instead of seeing two lines of ‘Ice…$3.74,’ there were two lines of something else for $4.74.  This.  Would.  Not.  Do.  Ice Nazi wasn’t letting us get away with these shenanigans.  That receipt would HAVE to read ‘ice’ on it.  Never mind that the store would have been $2.00 richer if we just grabbed the bags of ice and walked out.  We were directed to customer service.  Now, if you’re from Northern Virginia you know to avoid WalMart customer service at all costs.  As it turns out, this is one more difference between Illinois and Virginia.   Apparently, in some cultures, you can both smile and attend WalMart's customer service desk at the same time.

We explained our ice situation to the kind customer service lady.

Me, “Yeah, we can’t get past the ice lady if the receipt doesn’t say ‘ice.’”

Customer Service Lady gives a knowing chuckle.

Brian, “Actually, she’s probably 70 years old.  We probably could get past her.”

I chuckle.

Brian chuckles.

Customer Service Lady does not chuckle.  She is not impressed.

I chuckle nervously.  Oh, dear, now she thinks we’re laughing at the thought of plowing through Ice Nazi.

Brian later assured me that he was envisioning outrunning her.  But it was too late.  Just when we thought we could fit in at WalMart, we demoted ourselves by upsetting customer service with our twisted humor.  I did not know that it was possible to be on the offending end of that relationship.

Whoopsie.

Regardless, last night I fell asleep with a smile on my face.  I was lullabied by the sounds of heavy death metal in the distance.  All in all, in spite of a few setbacks, we succeeded in setting up our humble campsite and have both accidently referred to it as ‘home’ a few times already.  For breakfast this morning I scrounged up some scrambled eggs, turkey bacon, home fries and fresh sliced strawberries.  Brian’s warming up some shower water for me as I finish… and OMGoodness… Now I really feel at home.  I hear a hairdryer in the distance!