Dear Jerk at Wal-Mart:

If you are going to do a transaction involving something semi-dangerous at the cashier, maybe you should get off of your cell phone and pay attention.  Leaving the sweet little older lady to try and handle your dry-ice that you brought up to the register doesn't make me think well of you.  When she burns her fingers on it and you stand there as useful as a bag of man-nipples, it makes me want to shove the cell phone in your mouth and boot you out the door.  When the next person in line (ME) has to help her out with YOUR purchase because she obviously doesn't realize how dangerous this stuff can be and you never stop smacking your pie-hole covers into your phone I have reached a boiling point.  By the way, I had to tend her cold-burned fingers after you left, and yes we talked about you and what a moron you are.  You were plenty old enough to know better and I'm ashamed that you exist anywhere near me.