I Want Out!!! An Ode to Wal-Mart

So it seems that every time Dani and I return from Sam Walton's dishonored legacy we feel the need to blog. However, as we ride home leaving the ugly memories behind us the feelings of resentment and anger seem to subside and by the time we arrive to the comforts of home our passion to blog about the experience has subsided...

That was not the case today.So here it is, An Ode to Wal-Mart. It is long and I apologize. Hope you enjoy!

I had today off and thought it a good chance to get some shopping done. It is strange how you never seem to use something until it is gone or you run out of it. Then you suddenly need it all the time. This has been our case the last week with flour. It seems every recipe we have wanted has called for the white powder of which we had none. Therefore, in need of supplies and a feeling of generosity to support overseas workers, I traveled to said store. At first everything was going well. It wasn't too busy and the store here is quite nice with large aisles and well stocked shelves, "Today," I thought, "would be a good day."

Then it happened. As I was searching for laundry soap I soon became overwhelmed with the plethora of choices before me. Not only that, I had to find High Efficiency detergent for our new purchase of earlier postings. As I was perusing the options I heard this high pitched scream from a few aisles over. "I WANT OUT!" it yelled with such ferocity I almost dropped the rain-scented Tide I was sampling. Then the voice continued. "I WANT OUT!" it cried. Then again, and again, and again, ....

After what seemed like hours of these loud cries of repetition either my mind blocked the sound or the poor child had been moved on. Yet still here I was in front of the detergents yet to make a decision. What scent is best, Is it H.E., Is it a good deal, Will Dani like it, How many loads can you get, Is the handle ergonomic, Does it match our home decor, and the all-important question that should be on everyone's mind, What would Jesus do?

Well, I finally made a choice for a bottle of Tide that was on sale and had Febreze included; I was happy. Next, it was time for some groceries. This is where things got ugly. I turned the aisle only to almost step in what I could only guess was the outer remains of a corn dog but I couldn't be sure and dare not investigate further. After careful maneuvering to avoid said dog I headed for the mighty flour of which we had been needing so desperately. (Here I must explain something, I know that I walk faster than most; I have long legs and use them to my advantage. However, I have also found that I must walk quieter than most. How you may ask? Because whenever I am walking, no matter where it be, it seems that people always turn and run into me, or go sideways and cut me off, or I am following behind someone and I go to pass them on the right and they go right so I try to walk around the left and they go left as if completely oblivious to my presence. I have asked Dani about this and she suggests it is just that crowds of people are busy in their own thoughts and don't pay attention. This may be true but I believe I am cursed. Therefore, I have found I must cough or hum slightly or drag my feet whenever I feel such a situation eminent, and for the most part this seems to protect myself and others from these situations of collision and frustration, but not always, and today, well, it didn't seem to work at all.) OK, so I fought my way through the crowds, bumping into, being cut off by, and never being able to pass any of them, especially the old ladies who seem to need to park their carts in the middle of the aisle, perpendicularly, and then slowly walk over to what they need.

No offense to the older and slower generation, I know all too well I will be there some day but I vow to park my cart off to the side and obey the unspoken rules of engagement while shopping. They are quite similar to driving really: stick to the right side of the aisle, look both ways before crossing aisles, don't speed, yield to traffic, don't follow too closely or stop too abruptly, etc. Anyway, I make my way through the obstacles and arrive at the flour. Even now I do not know how the events unfolded but I found myself pinned to the side of the aisle because of the crowds of people. I hugged the side and reached down to grab a bag of flour of which I was beginning to wonder if it was worth it. As I stood up and turned a tight 180 to place the bag in my cart something caught on my jacket. Thinking it would simply slide off or perhaps just not caring, again I don't know quite how it happened, I continued to turn and then disaster struck.

Somehow my jacket, perhaps a button or the zipper, snagged a box full of little 2 serving bags of cornbread. Even as I placed the flour in the cart and heard the avalanche of things start to fall I could feel my face turning red. I turned to see the damage that had ensued while the whole crowd that had been so focused on only their own tasks suddenly became aware of me and decided to stop and assess the damage as well. Behind me lay a pile of these little bags all over the place. Even as I started to quickly pick them up more would fall and continue the stares and gentle smiles of passerby's mocking me as if to say:

"I am going to smile because I feel bad for you but not enough to actually stop and help you, therefore here is a smile, it should suffice."

And of course I would smile back as if to say:

"This is embarrassing and you must understand that, therefore here is a smile to show my appreciation, now keep walking."

Soon enough the crowd had moved on and I was left to replacing my mess of bags back onto the shelves in peace. I realized there was a problem, these bags had no box, they must have been placed on the shelf without one and thus created a booby trap for unsuspecting persons such as myself. I was thus left to precariously stack the smooth, silk-like bags onto the shelf which was no easy task. As I thought I was nearing the last of them the dang things would slip and all tumble down again, starting the process of cornbread Jenga all over again. Finally I had them stacked at least to a point that I could leave and feel they would not fall until I was clear of their path of destruction. Did I feel that they would stay that way permanently? Well of course not but it wouldn't be my problem at that point. Right? I could then just walk by the next poor soul and give that pleasant smile of:

"I feel bad for you, especially because I have been there before, but I don't feel bad enough to actually help you because I know how hard it is to stack those things, so here is a smile, it should suffice, please don't consider me a jerk."

Next, aisle.

Well, this one was a little better I was able to check off a fair number of things on my list and life was looking good again, until...off in the distance...I heard it..."I WANT OUT!" It cried. Are you kidding me?! This kid was still at it. My condolences and admiration to the mother of that child for not giving in to his demands. Again, I never did see the child but heard the screams growing closer and so headed off in the other direction. It was here in the aisle of laxatives and headache medicine that I found solace and relief, no pun intended. There was no one around and I had a chance to breathe. After mustering my courage I decided to brave the dangerous aisles once more.

Taking a left I reached the aisle of feminine hygiene products that every man jut loves to go down, especially while by himself. Not only this, but much to my disdain this particular Wal-Mart must have been doing inventory because there was a row of women with scan guns blocking every item I needed to get to. Usually, when facing the feminine hygiene aisle, I muster my courage and wait for the aisle to be clear while casually eyeing the product needed from a distance, planning my attack. As soon as it is clear I make a run for it, grab the item as quickly as possible, and speedily head off towards the automotive section, or guns, or beer, or anything manly. This plan would not work today. No, today I would have to face my fears and gather the feminine supplies with a whole group of ladies in my way. Oh well. I headed down the aisle with my head low and walking too quietly as usual. At least it must have been too quiet because as I eyed the particular item needed I reached between two ladies who were facing opposite directions of my arm. Hoping they wouldn't notice me, I tried to be fast but the box got stuck.

I was caught.

The two heads turned and must have been surprised to see a hairy arm with man hands at their eye level grasping a box of delicate feminine products. In my embarrassment I quickly yanked the box out, scratched my fingers, and moved on. Ducking into the next aisle and tending to my wounds, I regained my composure and surveying the remaining items on the list. Drat! I had forgotten to get brown sugar which was on the same aisle as the flour. This meant only one thing. I had to return to the scene of the crime. I only hoped the bags of cornbread were nowhere near the brown sugar.

As I rounded the corner, remembering to dodge the corn dog remains, I was greeted with another odd site. There before my eyes lay the remains of a half chewed hot dog on the shelf. Awesome! People disgust me. It had to have been an adult who placed the dog there. It was too high up for a child to have done so. (This situation reminded me of one I see at my place of work. Many know that I also work in a retail environment. At our store we allow dogs, I have no problem with this, I love dogs. However, there is also another unspoken rule that if your dog cannot control its bladder or urge to pee on something that doesn't smell right then your dog should not come into the store! I will give you the benefit of the doubt, perhaps you did not know your dog would relieve itself on our product or defecate in the middle of the aisle. BUT, if it does, at least clean if up! I will not go into detail because this is a different story, let if suffice to say that I have seen such and it is nasty!) back to the original story... I realized that this hot dog must be the dog to the outer remains of the corn dog, all that was missing was the stick. Which I found shortly a fair distance up the aisle from the earlier evidence. But, soon enough I had the brown sugar and was ready to move on to the last dreaded item...Milk.

This is the item EVERYONE is after. You know it is inevitable, the milk aisle is always busy, cold, frustrating, and in the back of the store. I sojourned to the back and found the aisle leading to it surprisingly wide. On one side was all the candy, on the other was all the popcorn and junk food. Coincidence that this aisle was the biggest one in the store? I think not. At the end I found the sign I had been seeking, "Dairy" it read like a beacon of hope shining from a lighthouse. Looking both ways I crossed the aisle and made my way like Indiana Jones towards the golden 1%... the path was clear... it was within my grasp... I was going to make it without error...nothing could stop me!!

I was cut off by another little old lady.

I waited patiently for her to choose the one she wanted. All the while thinking, "Come on you have probably been drinking the same stuff for the last 60 years, you know you're not going to change now." Eventually she made her decision and I got what I needed and was on the way toward the front. Here I was blessed; by some miraculous act I did not have to wait in a line to checkout. This boosted my spirits and I was happy to be leaving that store. In the parking lot I loaded the car and was about to be done when the wind caught my receipt and blew it about ten feet away. I waited, expecting that it would move again, but it did not. I stepped forward and almost got it when, Whoosh! it leaped out of grasp and stopped again ten feet away, taunting me. At this point I began chasing it, running into the roadway without looking, I would not lose this receipt. It was my prize, my award, and my proof of what I had been through. After a time the receipt stopped in front of a car where a lady was putting her kids into their seats. I reached down near her feet and she gave a startled look. I said nothing and walked away in anger and embarrassment. Though her kids did bring back a haunting memory and sound to my mind...I WANT OUT! I WANT OUT! And I thought, me too kid, me too.

I found the picture below while searching for Wal-Mart pics. It is a collection of people Chuck Davis saw while shopping a local Wal-Mart. You know you have seen them before too. On the second row you will notice a missionary.

P.S. After I got home and was putting stuff away I got to the last item which was the first I had picked out. The laundry detergent. Happy to put the memory behind me I went to put this last item away and noticed something that didn't make me happy. It wasn't high efficiency detergent! Looks like I will be going back sooner than planned.