Typically, I avoid the Dollar General more actively than Walmart. At the very least, Walmart does have good sales and is large enough to avoid close contact with the local nutcases. The Dollar General is small, crowded and typically is more densely populated with those of the lower echelon.

The only stores on my way home from work are a Winn-Dixie and a Dollar General. I needed two things the other evening--a chicken and a plastic container. How convenient that the Winn-Dixie and the Dollar General are right next to each other. (I had also recently promised C a toy from the DG, so...)

I decided to start with the Dollar General since I wouldn't have to worry about the chicken going bad while I shopped. Per custom, the store was cluttered making finding what I needed difficult and there was only one checkout open. (Another plus for Walmart.) After finding the perfect cat food container and a Wonder Egg Plant, I proceeded to the check out line.

Standing behind a man and his daughter (who both obviously suffered from Downsouth Syndrome), I couldn't help but hear their conversation. Apparently the daughter (who only reads every day at school), wanted her dad to buy her a copy of Diary of a Wimpy Kid. The book is apparently fifteen dollars which is far too expensive for a little book according to her father. (My first thought was check Amazon or Overstock for a cheaper copy, but I suppose that would only occur to someone who regularly purchases books.)

The daughter continued whining for the book and her father finally told her that he would buy her the book, but if she didn't read it (she has a large stack of untouched books at home), he was going to burn it. Burning it rather than returning or reselling it is of course the most productive way to get your $15 out of it. Books do make great fires that are a lot of fun. Trust me, I've burned a copy of The Fellowship of the Ring. The fire burned just a little brighter and a little warmer.

In her excitement after winning over her father, the little girl proceeds to drop a bag of Easter candy. Her immediate reaction is to pick it up and take it to the shelf to exchange it for an undropped bag of candy, but her father stops her. Just as she's starting to explain her need to exchange the candy, the woman behind me jumps in with a giddy voice explaining that it "must be a woman thing" and she "does the same thing all the time."

She proceeds to chat the father's ear off about exchanging dropped items and he is happy to oblige. Heck, she's kind of pretty for someone with Downsouth Syndrome. As she's explaining her need to do the same thing, I'm thinking about all of the other people with the same need and how they are all just going home with a bag of candy someone else has dropped. I'd rather candy I dropped myself.

The only thing stopped this woman (who turns out to be a Kindergarten teacher) from throwing her arms around him and dangling hopelessly around his neck is me standing between them. It was only slightly annoying until the man and his daughter finished checking out and I *still* could not check out because they were still chatting. The girl at the register seemed to share my annoyance. It took the other two a minute to notice we wanted them to take their flirtation elsewhere.

As the daughter and father team broke for the door, I could almost feel the kindergarten teacher's despair permeate everything within her vicinity. I'm sorry Ms. Kindergarten Teacher. There's always Match.com.