Wal-Mart. America’s Retail King. Wally World. Store of Impending Doom. Whatever you call it, don’t do it. The Waltons are rich enough. Wal-Mart has taken over. It is the Hungry Hungry Hippo of retail, if you will.Now, before people start to get upset and label me un-American for my verbal bashing of Wal-Mart, I would like to propose my reasoning. First of all, let me just say that I am a fan of falling prices. Who isn’t? That’s why we go to Wal-Mart. We make the trek to Wal-Mart to buy hangers, Tupperware and anything else under the sun so we can do some good ol’ American one stop shopping.
OK, convenience is a good thing; squashing the little man and supporting the monopoly is not. But the majority of this article will not focus on the bigger picture as to why we should shop elsewhere. It will just touch on my frustrations with the yellow smiley face.
We are back in school, back in the grind, back to doing what we do best. “What is that?” you might ask. Studying, of course. In order to study we need to have school supplies. Like lemmings jumping to our death, we head off to Wal-Mart along with half of the Starkville population.
Moving on, after we drive to Wal-Mart, we get there and think, “What the hell kind of parking lot is this?” You can royally screw up your car by roving over one of the ten thousand potholes that are in the half-finished “repaved” parking lot. After you drive around aimlessly in search of the perfect parking spot, you are cut off by a mother of four in a Dodge mini van.
Once inside, you are greeted by a nursing home escapee disguised in a blue vest. You grab a cart. Of course, you get the annoying peg leg cart that makes the worst noise ever heard. Sadly, you don’t realize this until you are five minutes into your trip and ten aisles over.
Insanity. Prices are falling everywhere. It’s a jungle in there. Where is your stun gun when you need it? Kids are roaming the aisles and their incessant bickering is echoing throughout Housewares. This does not help you while you are searching for pocket folders with brads, or something ridiculous like that.
If you are lucky enough to find everything you needed, including 100 things you didn’t need, you head to the checkout. Big mistake. You are now surrounded by 45 families and 12 trashy couples who are arguing whether to buy Miller Lite in a can or bottle.
In order to escape this madness you pick up a tabloid and read about some reality TV star’s latest pregnancy or drug scandal. Halfway into the article you are distracted, because the lady in front of you and her ginger kid picked up the only random thing in the store without a UPC code. The cashier hasn’t had a break in eight hours, and her surly disposition isn’t helping either.
By this point, scratching your eyes out and scampering off with everything in the amputee buggy seems like a good idea. Whatever you do, do not buy anything that can’t fit into a bag, or else Old Man River at the exit door will have to pretend to search your receipt until he is convinced your case of bottled water is indeed paid for.
The worst is going to Wal-Mart alone. Ladies, I would not suggest going really late at night. No, not because it might be dangerous in the parking lot. It is dangerous-well, maybe just funny-in the meats section. I have never been hit on so many times in my life. I am not saying this to sound arrogant. It is a warning.
The stock guys are vultures who prey on girls trying to find low fat turkey at 11 pm. If you are fortunate enough to get hit on or whistled at, and they proceed to ask you, “Do you need any help with anything?” respond with this: “Yes, Bernard, I need help realizing why I drove fifteen minutes and seven miles out of my way to feed this giant–otherwise known as your employer–in order to save ten cents on hot dogs and get harassed by you. Can you help me with that?”
College kids want to save money. Everyone wants to save cash for the bar. But I also think we should branch out a bit and explore the other stores Starkville has to offer.
It might not be as convenient as Wal-Mart, but what have we got to do anyway? We live in the booming metropolis of Starkville, Miss. It’s a great place. There’s not a lot of hustle and bustle. Why do we make ourselves go through fighting all the crowds at Wally World when we could support the smaller stores and probably find better quality foods and services?
Southern Family Markets: Feel free to send me some money.