My wife and I were in line at the grocery store. That’s where this tragedy begins. Specifically, we were in the “20 Items or Less” line. We had 18 items, so it was all groovy. As we stood there waiting for the person in front of us to finish checking out, I noticed something remarkable. Betty White was working as the cashier.
I’m not sure why Betty White would be working as a cashier in southwest Virginia, but there she was.
“Holy crap!” I whispered to my wife. “It’s Betty White!”
My wife, being the doubter she is, immediately tried to killjoy my discovery. “That’s not Betty White,” she said. “It doesn’t even look like Betty White.”
“You’re just saying that because you’re clearly a racist,” I retorted.
She tried to play the ignorance card. “I have no idea what that even means.”
“You wouldn’t,” I said, then quickly added, “Find a piece of paper and a pen!”
“Hurry,” I urged. “Check in that bottomless sack you carry around! I need a pen and paper. We have to get her autograph.”
“No,” My killjoy wife said again.
And that’s when I saw it.
The most horrible sight I’ve ever seen in my life.
Betty White was counting the items in our shopping cart.
“What the **** is she doing?” I asked.
“Looks like she’s counting the items in our cart,” my wife said.
“Oh, that’s bullcrap,” I whispered. “Betty White doesn’t trust us? She thinks we’d lie about something like that?”
“Excuse me,” Betty White said from behind her counter. “Are you going to check out?”
I now refer to it as her Counter of Judgment.
“One second, Betty White,” I said, then turned back to my wife. “That’s practically slander,” I whispered. “Or libel. I forget which one is written and which one is spoken. I think libel is written, but I’d have to check on–”
“It’s neither,” my wife said as she began to place items on the counter. “Now shut up.”
We placed all the items on the counter. Betty White rang them up and put them in bags. Credit where credit’s due, Betty White is a very efficient cashier.
“It’s 18 items,” I said defiantly. “We counted them before we ever got in line.”
My wife sighed.
“That’s fine,” Betty White said. “As long as it’s close, I don’t care. Yesterday a man got in line with 43 items. I’m okay if someone has 21 or 22, but 43 is just too much.”
This infuriated me.
I turned to my wife and whispered, “Betty White is lying!”
“Brandon, stop it,” my wife said.
“Seriously,” I whispered. “She counted our items! If she didn’t care about 21 or 22 items, she wouldn’t have counted. Betty White is a liar!”
Betty White finished ringing up our items and told us the price.
As I paid for the groceries, I said, “I used to think you were awesome.”
My wife sighed.
“Thanks,” Betty White said as she handed me the receipt.
The entire way home, I talked about how my heart was broken. I used to think Betty White was one of the good ones! I thought she was a real American hero.
But now I know better. I’m on to her game.
That whole “nice lady” image is complete and total crap. It’s all an act, just so she can get away with her evil scheme as she’s working at various grocery stores across the country.
See, that’s her plan. She gets jobs at grocery stores and does everything in her power to make the customers feel like crap. Then they go home feeling depressed, so what do they do?
They decide to watch a Golden Girls marathon to make themselves feel better.
It’s all about the dollar bill.
It’s all about the damn money.
Betty White, you break my heart.
Where have all the heroes gone?
p.s. My wife still claims the woman behind the counter was not Betty White.
Oh, how I wish that were true…
Want to read something less depressing than the reality that Betty White is a money grubbing monster?
Well, the Day Soldiers Trilogy is now complete. All three books are now available. Lose yourself in the war against a darkness almost as evil as Betty White.