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5/24/2004
Wal-Mart Chronicles
 I never thought I would say it, but I think I hate Wal-Mart. This weekend on two occasions, I had to enter the doors of a place I used to love but have now come to detest. No I haven't jumped on the bandwagon of Wal-Mart hatred that has become so trendy lately. In fact, I get rather irritated by those who mouth off about how much they hate Wal-Mart and use things like "unfair labor practices" and "big business" as a smokescreen for the fact that they really desipse how much money Wal-Mart is making. Well, I am not one of those people. I actually once enjoyed shopping at Wal-Mart. During my freshman year of college, I probably dropped a good $800+ there for dorm stuff. Wal-Mart is a college student's dream. Always low prices. Always. My distaste for Wal-Mart is soley based on the fact that I feel like I'm responding to a cattle call every time I go there. Wal-Mart is not just a store. It is an experience.
If you're planning on visiting Wal-Mart anytime soon, be certain you pray first. You need to be covered in prayer; lots of intense prayer. For myself, I'd add a little fasting too. Fasting is necessary if you have trouble restraining yourself from telling dense people how stupid they are. Pray for patience. You'll need that right away. Like, before you even go into the store. Patience comes in handy in the parking lot. Parking is no problem if you don't mind a 25 minute wait for a spot. Call me silly, but I mind. I think I almost had an out of body experience when this guy in a Toyota Corolla stole my spot. When you do finally find a spot, bring some trail mix and a compass to find your way to the store. I had to trek a good quarter of a mile just to get to the building, where I was immediately confronted with the idiotic people-botherers trying to get me to sign some petition for teacher's rights or something or other. I don't sign anything without reading it and I don't care how good "teacher's rights" sounds, I'm not about to slap my name on some "petition" and have it come out one day when I'm running for president of the NAACP, that I signed a petition to eliminate funding for some afterschool program. Kidding.
When you enter into the circus they call Wal-Mart, you are promptly greeted by 87 shopping carts missing owners, bitter customer service reps and a McDonalds. This is a recipe for disaster. The phrase, "Excuse me" becomes a huge part of your vocabulary. I must've said it two dozen times as I maneuvered my way through crowds of people bottlenecking at the clearance shelf. Oh look, a new "Atkins drink" for sale, I notice. What a racket. Oooh look! There's a commotion over at the "two for $11.99" DVD bin! Everytime I shop at Wal-Mart I feel less like a human being and more like an animal. This is nothing against Sam Walton or his entire rich family. I wouldn't mind holding stock in such a company. Although, while I was once a vigilant defender of Wal-Mart, I am becoming more convinced that they are partly responsible for perpetuating the lower-class citizen mentality that decends upon every customer who steps foot in a Seattle, Washington Wal-Mart. I try to fight it. I know I am a person raised with pretty good manners, but after about 10 minutes, I am ready to start pushing and shoving my way into the toilet-paper sale aisle just like everyone else.
Then there is the improper use of the intercom system. "Kendra, calling Kendra, you need to get to the customer service desk now! This is the third time we've asked you!" Now I'm no expert, but I'm pretty certain the loudspeaker should not be used for chastizing other employees. That seems pretty tacky. But wait a minute, this is Wal-Mart. If you can manage to drown out the igorance on the intercom, you should be okay. Until you get to the checkout stand; the pinnacle of the Wal-mart experience. This is where all civility and common decency are completely lost, and your true character is put to the test. This is the place that can break a weak-minded individual. This is the place where you must inform "Miss Independent" in the hot pink shirt that she has just cut you in the line. At this point, "Miss Independent" is highly likely to turn around and cuss you out and say things to you even your mother wouldn't say. Be strong. Don't let her cut you. Once you've staked out your spot in line, you can't rest easy yet. Chances are, your "brilliant idea" to get into the "10 items or less Express Lanes" turns out to be not-so-brilliant when you realize that most people in line have approximately 67 items. Apparently, most folks don't read signs. Or even worse, don't read at all.
My end purchase of a whopping $20.19 makes me wonder if it was even worth it. Apparently millions of people think it is; they keep shopping. Maybe it's just Seattle Wal-Marts. Yeah, that must be it.
posted by ambra at 5/24/2004 01:42:41 AM | link to this entry |
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