Apple Core...Baltimore...Whose Your Friend...?

Last night, I went to Wal Mart to pick up a few things and after I wandered around the store picking up this item and that do dad, I decided that I had what I needed and then headed for the checkout. But before I got to the checkout, I thought, “Oh, my family needs some apples,” and so I went to inspect the produce section. Now I don’t know about your Wal Mart, but our Wal Mart’s produce leaves a bit to be desired. It usually looks like that really gaudy, flower-print shirt that’s always on the clearance rack, and has been sitting there so long that its all wrinkly, and a tad dirty from being dropped on the floor and stepped on so many times. Lord only knows how many people have handled it.

So you can imagine my surprise when I got to the apples and saw a bright, shiny display of Macintosh apples just waiting to be bagged up and taken home. Macintosh apples are the best. They’re super sweet with a nice crisp peel, and they are small which means that when Aaron wants to eat an apple, he will actually eat the whole thing. But small is important in this story for another reason. Let’s press on, shall we?

I believe that they were listed at $1.29 per pound. So I loaded up a bag and moved to the checkout. I did not count the apples as I placed them into the bag because apples are sold by the pound. This….is also important.

When I got to the register, let’s just say that I was unsure about the cashier’s checker-outer capabilities. But since it was a short line I decided, “Eh, how bad can it be,” and I unloaded my stuff onto the conveyer belt. He seemed to have a handle on things. He moved each item across the scanner thingy. He placed each item in the bag. All is well, but then he got to the apples…..

Doofy Cashier: Uh, how many apples do you have?
Me: I really don’t know, but apples are sold by the pound so…”
Doofy Cashier: Yeah, but how many do you have?
Me: I really don’t know, but…”

So he rips open my bag of apples and starts taking each one out of the bag and placing it on the conveyer belt. “What in the hell is this guy doing,” I thought as I exchanged glances with the lady behind me. Then he stops taking them out and seems to be completely confused and is just standing there with his filthy hands all over my beautiful apples. My mouth was hanging open and I wanted to scream, “STOP TOUCHING MY APPLES,” but I was mesmerized by the train wreck in front of me and couldn’t say anything.

Finally, he loads the apples back into the bag and presses a few buttons and up pops the price on the screen...twenty-three dollars and some odd cents.

Me: Is that $23 for that bag of apples.
Doofy Cashier: Uh, yeah.
Me: Well what is that seventeen there on the screen? There isn’t seventeen pounds of apples there?
Doofy Cashier: Oh, well that’s just something that we type in.
Me: ?????.........I blankly looked over at the lady behind me…
Lady Behind Me: That would mean that each apple weighed over a pound.
Me: I don’t what them then. Not for twenty-three dollars.

And so he put my beautiful apples under his register and finished ringing up my stuff. I paid and left with no apples. After I got into the car I started second guessing myself and wondered if maybe I was the idiot, but after a bit of Googling, I found that an average supermarket apple weighs 3.5 ounces. There are 16 ounces in a pound. If I had 17 apples that weighed 3.5 ounces each, I would have had 59.5 ounces of apples or 3.7 pounds. 3.7 pounds at $1.29 a pound, would be $4.77, NOT $23.

Now I have no apples and my head hurts from all of the math. Stupid Wal Mart!