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I hate WalMart. I hate
how small businesses starve when a WalMart appears. I hate that items
sold there hit the "discontinued" list at the manufacturer a year later.
I hate their "made in
China"
merchandise. I hate how WalMart will change inventory to 47-pound bags
of dogs food instead of 50 pound bags--without lowering the price. But
no matter how hard you try, sometimes you have no other choice but
WalMart.
This past Saturday, I
had no choice. There were five items on my shopping list I could maybe
get elsewhere, but I didn't have the time to make five different stops
at "specialty stores."
The place was packed.
Something else I hate; meandering people who stop without notice to look
at some marked-down piece of disposable junk. Steering through the
aisles of WalMart on Saturday is nearly equivalent to steering
West Virginia
roads on Sunday afternoon, behind the folks who are out for a "Sunday
drive."
I am an
offensive cart driver. The minute I pass the WalMart greeter and get my
cart, I'm dangerous. I have my approach planned, and I cut from
department to department, veering around taste-tests, marketing displays
and gawking shoppers. If you see me coming in WalMart, get out of my
way.
On Saturday,
I was on a quest for five items--all in five different sections.
Avoiding the food section altogether, I turned left, quickly passing 24
checkout counters (19 of them closed) to the Health and Beauty Aid
section. I passed the H&B aisles closest to the pharmacy (typically
crowded) and cut down into H&B Aisle Five. I was looking for face wipes.
What I found were boxes and boxes of Christmas ornaments. I had no
choice but to search the other H&B aisles.
I walked my
cart up and down the edge aisle along the wall, pacing, looking for an
unpopulated option first. All the aisles were crowded, so I parked my
cart in the edge aisle, grabbed my purse and traversed the aisles
cartless. Still, I could find no face wipes. But then, in the very last
aisle, clear on the top shelf, sat a single box of face wipes, seemingly
dropped there as an afterthought. They were the wrong brand, and out of
reach. I had no choice but to ask for help.
At least a
blue-aproned employee was nearby, as I had returned to the pharmacy
region in my search. "Face wipes are in the Cosmetics Department," she
said from atop her step ladder, as if that was something I should know.
I swear, two months ago, they were in H&B Aisle Five.
After
finding the face wipes, I headed south, past the
expanded-for-the-holidays Toy Department into Housewares. I was back to
my prearrival strategy, going as fast as I could towards Housewares,
Aisle Nine. I was looking for sweeper bags, but the Toy Department had
outgrown itself, and had taken over Housewares Aisle Nine, and I found
Spongebob
Squarepants
looking at me from the shelf where sweeper bags should be.
I realized
then I was lost in WalMart. Nothing was where it should be, and I had no
idea where to find it. I turned my head left and right, desperately
hoping to see a blue WalMart apron-person, with "May I Help You?"
embroidered on the chest. But alas, that was the only moment I had a
WalMart Aisle all to myself.
With the plan to get in
and out quickly thrown out the window, I began weaving back and forth
through the aisles. Sweeper bags were one aisle over.
With dread,
I began the search for the next item in the Automotive Department. I
have a hard time finding the right item in that section anyway, and I
was reluctant by this point to even enter. But I braced myself, and with
great speed went darting across the main aisle from Housewares into
Automotive, cutting off at least one person in Main Aisle traffic. I
looked back to utter a brief apology as I entered the auto aisle, and
when I looked ahead to begin searching the shelves, I was lost again.
The Outdoor Department, housing all the hunting gear, had also
grown--taking over at least one auto aisle. I simply turned my cart
around and made my escape from the area.
Twenty
minutes later, after maneuvering passed the crowds packing the main
aisle around the Music, Shoe and Craft departments, I found Lysol
Antibacterial Kitchen Cleanser right where it should be. I almost cried
with relief. Never before have I been so glad to see a plastic spray
bottle.
The 47-pound
bag of dog food was also where it should be, and without an air filter
for the truck, I headed toward checkout. I chose the shortest line, less
than three waiting, and I took the opportunity to get myself together. I
was frustrated, and perspiring. While waiting, I filled in my checkbook
with shaking hands. Looking at the time, I realized 45 minutes had
passed since I entered the WalMart realm.
I gathered
my four items from the bottom of my cart and clutched them to my chest.
I counted the items on the assembly line counter ahead of me. The lady
in front of me had 43 items.
When I finally reached
the cashier, she greeted me with a WalMart smile, and asked how I was
doing.
Too exhausted to
complain, I said, "Oh, fine."
And she
said, "Did you find everything okay?"
I could have strangled
her right there.
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