Breaking news

"Are gang members really going to kill three women tonight at Wal-Mart?"

What? No? OMG. What?!?!?

Finishing up another express lane order at Wal-Mart last night, this lady decided I needed to be filled in. Apparently, I was in mortal danger at the register 20 feet from the entrance. Mortal danger from idiot guests, someone fixing the stupid air curtain or another staff member wielding a boxed piece of furniture perhaps. A gang member...I highly doubt it. And if it were true -- what the heck was she doing shopping here tonight? Tempting fate?

"I haven't heard anything about it," I said. "Probably another email hoax."

"It's all over the news," she continued. "I got a text from my friend in Las Vegas."

Las Vegas. Las Vegas I might understand. But rural Arizona. Hmmm. Yep, a little wannabe action with fence-painters and high school kids who want to fight with every human being that "dis-ses" them. That's our gang activity. Except for maybe a few police officers who want to make the problem way bigger than it is to frighten us and get a few more gang-prevention grants.

It's now dark, and one of our staff members comes in to let us know there's a squad car parked in front of the store (on the sidewalk, between the doors, by the way). Oh, maybe they're concerned too? Not really. It's an EMPTY squad car, totally dark. Not too much of a deterrent effect from a parked empty vehicle.

I take my break, never even see anything suspicious. A couple of college guys with a case of beer and Jager. The first guy to pull his ID turns 21 today. I decide not to warn them about the gang slayings. Not that they'd care.

A little over an hour to go on my shift. I'm operating one of the good registers. I get told to go back by the door because one of the old lady cashiers can't work there. She gets pneumonia easily. I decided not to tell her about the gangs, OR the fact that you get pneumonia from a virus, not from a door or cold air. But secretly, I wish the gangs would come and drop her. Give me a break. Stupid management allows it. Would that be reverse age-discrimination?

I'm off the clock, and I check out a few things at the single open register. I walk to the door, walk out with another cashier. The empty cop car is still there. Otherwise the parking lot is almost dead. Apparently the gang members are all drinking with the birthday boy, or maybe they road tripped to Las Vegas. I'm going home.