I live in Florida, affectionately known as God's waiting room. We have four kinds people here- old and older, grumpy and grumpier.

For instance, I occasionally frequent Wal-mart to buy those things I absolutely can't get elsewhere. Otherwise, why else would you want to subject yourself to this kind of pain?

There are two kinds of greeters at Wal-mart. One is happy, secure with his or her personality and genuinely glad to be there. They are not there for the money. Most just want something to do with their time other than sit at home and listen to a nagging spouse all day.

The other has to be there because there's more month than money. They have to work, and you can tell from their face that they don't want to be there and could care less about you.

I'm convinced that many of the folks that frequent Wal-mart aren't there to buy anything. For instance, some of the geezers at my gym only lift weights. I asked "Why don't you ever hit the treadmill?" They respond, "We do our cardio at Wal-mart. We walk the isles."

I honestly wonder if any of these guys ever buy anything. Some folks go to Wal-mart just to ride those little electronic carts in front of the store.

I recently pulled up to the stoplight near my local Wal-mart in St. Cloud, Florida. Coming down US 192 (a major four to six lane highway that splits our town) was a little old lady on her huge tricycle. It was actually bigger than a Harley. It had a seat bigger than most horse saddles and it even had a back on it… and a seat belt, which she refused to wear. It had a huge basket on the front as well as a matching basket on the rear. Anchored to the back of her seat was a 12 foot fishing pole that had a flag with the number 18 on it attached to it to alert the traffic behind her.

She had on the usual garb, her little old ladies hat and those huge wraparound sunglasses that geezers put over their regular glasses… and a cigarette hanging out of her mouth.

What made this picture particularly funny was three things: 1- the handicap parking permit she had bolted to her handle bars, 2- the "Kyle Bush NASCAR stickers she had plastered all over her baskets, and 3- the fact that she had an 18 wheeler right on her rear basket as she peddled through the intersection toward Wal-mart.

I too was heading to the Wal-mart zoo that morning so I fell in behind "NASCAR Nellie" and followed her into the parking lot, where she proceeded to the nearest handicapped slot and parked her tricycle. She took her chain and bolted it to the handicap parking sign, ticking off four other old geezers who wanted to put their car in that same hole. Some waved to her the she was number one as they fumed off to find another handicap spot. Who knows, maybe they just didn't like Kyle Bush, just like the rest of world.

By the time I parked in another zip code and made my way to the door to be greeted by "ole grumpy," she had climbed aboard a motorized cart to go inside to do her shopping. I had to wait 45 minutes to get some prescriptions filled (hey, always call them in). So I decided to follow "NASCAR Nellie" around the store.

She never bought a single thing. Every time she bumped into a fellow geezer she knew, she stopped for a yap. Since both were near deaf, you could hear them screaming at one another three isles over.

She proceeded to sample every food give-away that was being offered at the end of the isles. Sam's Club is famous for these "isle buffets." I'm convinced that some folks never buy food anymore. They simply do the "isle buffets" at Publix, Wal-mart, BJ's and Sam's Club.

Forty-five minutes passes quickly when you're having fun. I hear the Pharmacist butcher my name over the loud speaker system saying "Mr. Ann, your meds are ready" and I meander back up to collect them.

Just as I'm leaving the store, I see Nellie at the 15-items-or-less line asking for a pack of Camels, her only purchase. Just another day in God's waiting room.