I had to go to Wal-Mart today.  Lord, I hate that store.  It’s not like you can truly avoid it either.  With money being tight, everyone has had to tighten the purse strings and whether you like it or not they have the best prices.  This is thanks to the fact that they have almost single-handedly choked out all the competition because they can buy in such volume.  That being said, I still hate going to Wal-Mart.

I pulled into the parking lot on Sunday evening.  Carts are littered everywhere throughout the parking lot.  The first two empty spaces I try to pull into are blocked by misplaced carts.  What simple minded yahoo can’t walk the cart over to the buggy barn?  You don’t need a GPS to find them, they are as prevalent as my age spots.  Jiminy Christmas, make the extra two steps and keep the cart where it belongs.  That way it won’t ding my car, and I won’t have to scream in frustration at the inconsideration of the American public.  Why is it so difficult…we spend thousands of dollars in diet products and gym memberships, but are too lazy to make the extra few steps to put the cart up.  This is not the fault of the fine “associates” at Wal-Mart.  I recognize that, but it sort of sets the mood for the whole shopping experience.

So now I’m walking in the store already pissed and I find that there are no carts.  I don’t know why no one has gone out to the stinking parking lot and corralled these carts and brought them in.  I do know that when the kid comes in with the carts he is hacking and coughing all over the handle.  Then as I scream “thank-you” for the second time he finally rolls a cart at me.  Not to me…at me.  So I take the antibacterial wipes and clean the handle, all the while looking at Hacky McHackerson with what I hope is pure disgust.  Then I march my mad self to the produce aisle.  I choose produce, but it doesn’t really matter which aisle I pick they are all the same, because everyone needs fruits or vegetables.  Apparently, they all need them at 6:00 on Sunday night.  The place is teeming with people milling over the fruits and vegetables.  I see people picking at the grapes, squeezing the oranges, and talking on cell phones.  Most of the time they can’t even hear you call them effing rude *&%holes because they are talking to Aunt Truvie about what happened in church this morning.  Well in my opinion, a good Christian wouldn’t block my path and ignore me while I am cursing them like a sailor on leave.  I just want to get a head of lettuce.  Get the eff out of my way!

When I made it to the paper products the aisle is so narrow that you can barely squeeze two carts side by side.  Okay, that’s fine.  I can stop my cart, walk the few steps to whatever I need and walk back to my cart to put the items in there without difficulty.  Until the lady with three kids, twin toddlers and another pre-schooler, turns her cart sort of sideways to block the older child’s ability to get to the animal shaped paper plates.  Holy crap!  The kid is screaming, the toddlers are throwing things out of the cart, the mom has a look on her face that clearly says “murder is imminent.”  Dodging yogurt containers and other small, easily thrown objects I dash to the toilet paper and pick up the nine pack because I think it will make a better  shield for the trip back to the cart.  Then covering my face as best I can I dodge, and duck my way back to the cart.    When I finally make it back with only superficial wounds, I count myself lucky and back away as quickly as possible. With varying shoppers and different aisles the story pretty much remains the same. Stocking is also apparently done Sunday evenings.  There are boxes in the middle of the floors and stockers running back and forth.  While looking for compactor bags, I stopped one of the stockers to see if she had any idea where they might be.  I was told there might be some in the back, but the fool didn’t go look for them.  She just said there might be some in the back.  Well, there might be some in China too, but   I ‘m not going there to look for them.  The stocker just looks at me like I’m ruining her day,  until I finally ask if she could check for me.  I can almost hear her eyes roll.  Just when I think this can’t get worse I get to the checkout.

I’m going to assume the cashier was told to be friendly to the customers.  Her interpretation of friendly includes an analysis of each and every item in your cart. “Oh are these good?  Looks like someone is having spaghetti for dinner.  Have you ever tried these before?” and so on.  At first I just kind of nod.  Then when she is obviously not paying attention to the fact that I am ignoring her, I begin to answer her questions as succinctly as possible. “Yes, they are good.  No, spaghetti tonight.  Yes.”  She still doesn’t get it.  Finally when I run my debit card through the machine, in a desperate attempt to escape,  I almost forget my receipt.  Not to worry, Chatty Cathy tackles me on my way out the door to be sure I have that sacred piece of paper in my possession.  Thanks!  Then as I am sliding through the doors that I have been warned are automatic the $1 DVD Rental booth is so busy that I can’t make it close enough to the doors to activate the opening mechanism.  Have a nice day!

It’s not the fact that it’s Wal-Mart that bothers me so much.  It’s the fact that it is so crowded.  Day in and day out.  I’ve shopped at 3:00 a.m. and I’ve shopped at 3:00 p.m.  It’s crowded.  I’ve shopped on Sunday, Monday, Tuesday and so on….it’s crowded.  The aisles are narrow, the people are rude, there are never sales people when you need them but they are up your butt when you don’t.  I need to save money as much as any one else, but something has to be said for saving your sanity too.  The Mom & Pop store costs more, but when I walk in it’s never busy.  I can always park close to the doors.  Yes, I still sometimes am inconvenienced by inconsiderate shoppers but not nearly as often as the bigger venues.  I will continue to shop at Wally World.  I don’t think it can be avoided.  I just want you to know that if you see a clearly frustrated, middle-aged woman at Wal-Mart and you are blocking the aisle, talking on your cell phone, or just irritating me in  general…I will call you on it. And because @**hole is not something you can say, it is only something you can write, you might want to cover your children’s ears.

1 Comment »

1. 

   Our Flippin Wally World is not so bad. With the exception of the food sample lady. This food nazi ignors me and other chubbettes whom she deems should not have chocolate encrusted warm brownies or Paula Dean’s Cheesey Sausage Butter Hunks. However, I do feel better knowing she has to wear that fetching hair net in public.

   Amen, Alleluiah…pass the gin.

   Comment by pms — January 13, 2009 @ 8:59 am

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