Art Prints
 

A Trip to Walmart


I dislike Walmart. Majorly. I realize I will be angering some but I hate going to Walmart. For me, it means stress.


What it stands for. How it makes me feel. How it feeds on cheapness ... I mean there are 100,000 reasons. And yet, last Thursday, I went to Walmart. I was in a hurry [stupid … never visit Walmart if you’re in a hurry], I didn’t want to drive to the next town up [again, stupid …], and to be honest, I can’t even remember why I went. Seriously, it’s a blank. A complete blank.

The thing is, have you ever noticed how rude people in Walmart are? Try to say hello en passant and watch the reaction. Or try to smile at someone, and they think you’re berserk. The carts are dirty and squeak. Darn, I have never had a silent cart. NEVER. They all squeak. And on many, the wheels don’t turn. Maintenance: Do your job. Fix it.

There are people everywhere. Rude people. You seriously have to watch where you walk. Or risk getting run over. Literally. Sleazebags hitting on girls, trying to grab them, sometimes requiring security to intervene. [Night time shopping trips are the worst for this] … Ugh! Oh, and the show of the absolute worst dressed people in the county who seem to make the place their runway. Don’t even get me started on that one.

The worst? Finding out that what you need is out of stock. It happens every time. Every single friggin time. Which brings me to customer service. Or customer’s no-service. [Last time I needed one, I found one hiding/chatting a few aisles down her post] And once you find one, be prepared to deal with a lousy attitude. I know it does not help to be stuck in a no- better-outlook-than-supervisor-job but still … That’s not my fault. You’re in retail. Deal with it.