There's Retail. There's Therapy. But This Ain't Retail Therapy.

Wal*Mart. I think most of us love it and hate it at the same time, am I right?

I was there with the girls recently and when we finally returned home and I'd put my purchases away I started thinking about the things I love about Wal*Mart, and consequently, the things I hate. I guess it shouldn't have come as much of a surprise that my "pro" column was sadly lacking compared to my "con" column.

For instance, I love that Wal*Mart's prices are competitive with almost all other stores. I also love the fact that they have a huge selection of everything from car batteries to ethnic foods and everything in between. Okay, so the quality generally sucks, but if you're shopping at Wal*Mart you automatically have to expect it and not be too choosy.

I do believe that's where my pro/love column ends.

Let us go on to the con/hate column, shall we?

The people! Look, I won't lie and say that I wear my best duds to go to Wally World, or that I even put on a speck of makeup to shop. Honestly? Half the time I go without styling my hair.

But am I clean? Do my clothes match? Are they without gaping holes and greasy stains? Yes to all of the above. The same cannot be said for many of the other people who browse those hallowed aisles. Hell, some can't even claim a full set of teeth. I cannot tell you how many times I've seen women walking through the store with no bra on, nipples erect, but usually pointing south because they're old, saggy, probably-nursed-15-children kind of boobs.




And OMG, don't even get me started on people who put their almost-newborn babies down in those filthy infant seats that the store provides. Just looking at them I swear I can see the cooties jumping up and down in glee over a receiving a new host. Ewwwwwww.

Kinda like these, with that squishy vinyl crap that can absorb all kinds of grossness to be passed on to the next helpless baby.



And how about those helpful employees? Months ago I had a problem with one of my purchases. It was ringing up the wrong price. Unfriendly cashier called the relevant department for a price check and I waited. And waited. And waited some more, all the while with steam coming out of my ears. I thought I couldn't get any angrier, but oh, I did. Because this bitch turned off her light, put up the "lane closed" sign and left to take a break! With me standing on the frickin' frackin' line!!! She left me there!!! I then had to search down a manager to take care of this and by that time I was ready to slap anyone silly who got in my way. I was this close to walking out of the store with the unpaid item, and that is so not me. Dammit, it would have been justified. Well, kinda. If you're of the criminal element. And I'm not.

It's so great that they have 30 or 40 checkout lines, isn't it? But not so great that no matter how busy and crowded the store is, they only have a handful of them open. Even on a Friday night when the store is hopping. Assholes.

I hate standing on line. It's not just a time thing, but it's an anxiety thing. I feel trapped knowing that I either have to stand there as long as they make me, or bolt out of the store, having to leave all my stuff behind. I start sweating profusely, shifting from foot to foot with my heart pounding like a bass drum. So yeah, I hate the lines in Wal*Mart.




Oh my goodness. Ooh! Don't you just love those turny-carousel-bag-thingies all Wal*Marts switched to a few years back? No? Me neither! Is there anyone reading this who has not accidentally left behind a bag or two because it/they were hiding on the other side of the turny thing that the stupid cashier did not turn fully around? Bastards!




You know what? I could probably sit here all night listing all the shit I hate about Wal*Fart (not a typo) but now I'm starting to actually get pissed off that I return there time and time again when I so obviously hate it! What is it about that damn store that just keeps drawing us back into its evil web of retail deception? Is it just me? Please tell me it's not just me. Please!

Note to self: Go to Target next time.


Pssst! If you love me, you might love my sister more. Go visit her at Jill's Believe it or Not, and tell her I sent you!