Winter Field Day kicks off tomorrow and runs through Sunday. For those who aren’t familiar, Winter Field Day is a Ham radio competition where operators try to make as many contacts as possible within a set time. Some of those contacts can be from all over the world — which means a few of us will be huddled around radios, headphones on, pretending we’re way more important than we actually are.

I volunteered to bring a dessert. Since there will only be four of us, I decided not to go all out. If this were a bigger crowd, I’d be firing up one of my Dutch ovens and whipping up something impressive like a cobbler or an upside-down cake. But for a small group? Cookies it is.

Simple. Easy. No problem… until I realized I didn’t have all the ingredients.

So, against my better judgment, I made a trip to Wal-Mart — the one place I did not want to be, on any day of the week, much less on a Friday afternoon.

For those unfamiliar with Wal-Mart (and bless you if you are), it’s basically a small country. Groceries on one side. Clothes, housewares, sporting goods, electronics, car batteries, fishing worms, and possibly a space shuttle on the other. If humanity has ever needed it, Wal-Mart probably has it… somewhere… in aisle 947.

I grab my few missing items and head to the self-checkout. Of course, there’s a line. I remember when self-checkout first came out, and the rule was “10 items or less.” When did that become “one fully stocked fallout shelter per customer”? People in front of me had carts piled so high I half expected a sherpa to come help guide them through.

As I’m standing there, practicing my patience breathing, I start noticing something a little… off.

One lady with a cart loaded down with groceries was pulling items out, dropping them into bags… and never scanning them. Not “oops, missed one.” I mean, confidently bagging groceries like she was playing a game of competitive grocery Jenga.

What made it worse? The Wal-Mart attendant was standing right there watching her… and doing absolutely nothing.

Apparently, I wasn’t the only one who noticed. People ahead of me were quietly making comments to the attendant. Still nothing. The lady continued her little “Scan-less and the Furious” routine like it was perfectly normal. At that point, I’m thinking either this is the boldest shoplifting operation I’ve ever seen… or I accidentally wandered into some kind of undercover training exercise.

Ordinarily, I probably would have said something. But then I hesitated.

Maybe she’s fallen on hard times and genuinely needs the food. Maybe this is one of those situations where you mind your business and let the universe sort it out. After all, an employee was standing there whose job — supposedly — was to prevent exactly this kind of thing.

On the other hand… karma has a funny way of circling back around and biting you right on the rear end when you least expect it.

So I paid for my legally acquired cookie ingredients, headed for the door, and left Wal-Mart exactly the way I found it — confused, slightly concerned, and in need of a shower and a prayer.

If nothing else, the cookies better be good. I risked emotional damage for them.