24-Hour Discount Hell

QUESTION: 

Why is it that everyone seen inside Wal-Mart either looks like they just got out of bed or recently escaped from prison?

ANSWER: 

Because there is no other place one can by a loaf of bread, hemorrhoid cream, duct tape, a Wiggles DVD and a shotgun.

If you had a trip to Africa or Saturn, one of the last places you'd go while preparing for the trip would be Wal-Mart.  

I hate Wal-Mart.  With every visit, I grow to hate it more.  In my normal day-to-day, Wal-Mart is never on my list of places to visit.  Never.  If time is of importance, however, due to its "convenience", I will go to Wally World.  Yesterday was such an occasion.

While working around the back yard, I realized the water hose purchased last summer refused to let go of the spray gun nozzle attached months and months ago.  First of all, why?  Why does this sort of drama happen to me every summer?  This wouldn't be a problem if (a) I wished to violently spray water every time the water was turned on (unfortunately, this makes filling doggy bowls nearly impossible); and (b) the water hose didn't leak water.  Again, why does this happen to me?  Any time this hose is used, the person pointing the spray nozzle gets as wet as the area the nozzle is pointed.  What happened to the days of attaching the hose to the faucet and living happily ever after?  Obviously those days are over.  So today I chose to run to Wal-Mart for a new water hose.  

The parking lot alone makes a person not want to go to Wal-Mart yet many of us dismiss our sixth sense.  Finding a parking spot without a shopping cart could be the theme of a new NBC game show.  No matter what time of day or night, locating a spot is nearly impossible.  Unless you park at the very top corner of the parking lot.  In that case, the walk to the store could take anywhere from 20 minutes to 4 days.  And really - parking there only means you will need to carry all the Wal-Mart purchases back to that area.  Besides, who knows what will happen to your vehicle?  Basically anything.  That's no man's land.  I had a friend who parked there one time.  When he got back to his car, a family of gypsies was living in the backseat.  Tough price to pay for wanting an ice cream sandwich and motor oil.  Also, the Wal-Mart parking lot is always the place where some disheveled individual approaches pleading for gas money because they have little gas and need to get Amarillo.  The same person often bothers me every Saturday night visit.  The same person.  Idiot.  My brother-in-law is convinced this scam will lead to a stabbing.  He believes these shady folk distract with the sad story, lure individuals to their cars, and then when not expecting it (but really when are you expecting it?) stab you.  I shake my head at the logic, but then again if asked to jot down a list of places I'd most likely be stabbed, the Wal-Mart parking lot would be either item two or three.  

Finally I parked.  Before heading into the store, however, I had to push a few carts AND grab one that had "rolled" into the car parked next to me.  That move may have been the most pivotal of the trip because I KNOW, I KNOW once the owner of the vehicle came out and saw the shopping cart resting against his door, the next move would have been pushing it free and into the closest target - my car.  Oh, yes, I know the mentality of some when leaving Wal-Mart.  Still, this "pivotal" move will not stop the person across from pushing their cart into my car.  But it is these little things one must hold onto when entering Wal-Mart.

Once inside Wal-Mart, you realize why you never want to come to Wal-Mart.  Who came up with the color scheme and decor?  Basing my knowledge through the eyes of movies like Face/Off,  entering Wal-Mart looks like entering the cafeteria of a prison.  The only thing missing are the prison guards perched above with shotguns in their hands.  Then, they try fooling you into believing things are not as dire as they seem by tricking you with a greeter person.  But you are not tricked.  Most of time the greeter is some old man who is wearing a boot on his right foot while sitting in a lawn chair, or some feeble being who cannot figure out the price mark gun for marking return items.  Rarely do these greeter people say hello.  They are either busy applying stickers to return merchandise (usually stolen from the parking lot), or navigating one of those automatic drive carts.  Which brings up another hassle - do these ever work?  I had knee surgery last year.  Every time I went to Wal-Mart---again, out of convenience; I had one leg---these automatic carts were never charged or working.  Never.  Well, maybe once.  What is the use having these if they do not work, or cannot be used.  Much like the "Self Checkout Lanes" which I will bitch about later.

This is a rare mid-day visit for me.  Normally, my visits are late at night when there is less craziness in the store.  After midnight, the only problems to deal with are steering through pallets of unopened, unstocked merchandise and waiting for the one cashier in Lane 38 to check you out before sunrise.  Not saying it is a better experience, but it is not as dreadful.  Today in lieu of the pallets, maneuvering fellow customers is the my pain.  People tend to lose themselves while shopping, completely forgetting they are blocking an entire aisle.  Amazing.  Note to Wal-Mart customers BTW - GET OFF THE DAMN CELL PHONE AND STOP BLOCKING THE CEREAL!  It is a madhouse.  People everywhere.  Is this really more convenient?

Fifteen minutes later, I have successfully picked up items from grocery, making my way past electronics into lawn and garden.  I skip the electronic/music section because I refuse to purchase music at Wal-Mart.  Why do they only sell the edited versions of CDs?  Considering how Wal-Mart wipes the mom and pop stores off the face of the world, how do they find the morality virtues to keep the children from hearing their favorite artists sing with the occasional four letter words in their songs?  Morals at Wal-Mart?  Isn't this the same place that will not allow employees to take off work even to see their children leave for Iraq?  (If you did not receive that email forward, you may be the only one.)  If your Wal-Mart is anything like mine, the lawn and garden department is on the opposite end of the grocery area, located in an area that looks like it was attached to the building after someone asked: "Hey, where can we put the rakes?"  Around this time of the year, this section is packed to the brim with lawn equipment, pesticides, furniture and plants.  The aisles are smaller.  So much that if someone is coming your direction it is best to back out or shrink yourself next to ant or roach poison to allow them by.  Finally, I find the water hose section.  For a novice, it would mean another hour deciding which water hose would better serve its purpose in his life; for me, been there done that.  Never will I buy that yellow piece of crap again.  Now, to the checkout lanes.

Strolling to the checkout lanes, the first you see are the express lanes.  No one ever seems to work at these lanes.  Waste of space.  Next to those are the ones I despise with all my heart: the so-called "Self Checkout Lanes".  Why, oh, why?  Here is my experience with the "Self Checkouts": 

I activate the "Self Checkout" system.  I scan my first item and place it into the bag.  I scan my second item and place it into the bag.  The computer indicates there are too many items inside the bag and to re-scan the previous item.  I re-scan item.  The system does not recognize the item.  I scan again.  Same thing happens, and the system tells me to wait for the next available cashier.  Ah, therein lies the rub.  If I wanted cashier assistance, I would have opted for the non-Self Checkout Lane.  Ah-ha!  The duration of the wait takes longer than if I had waited in the regular cashier lane.  Finally, help arrives.  Or is it help?  The "Self Checkout Lane" professional has no clue what happened.  He scans the item and gets the same message.  Five times.  Eventually he resolves the matter: Ignore the message and keep scanning.  By this time, I have killed twenty additional minutes in Wal-Mart.   Dear, Wal-Mart - Remove these "Self Checkout Lanes".  They suck.

I am done.  I am free.  This Wal-Mart adventure is a historical event.  I carry bags containing Smart Water, an all-steel pruner and Betty Crocker scalloped potatoes.  Only at Wal-Mart.

Shit, did that cart hit my car?  Wal-Mart, I hate you.