I love Walmart

I know it is not popular to love the retail behemoth that destroyed most small town mom and pop stores but I don’t really care. I love me some Walmart. I love cheap stuff and the people who buy it. So much so that I often check in on http://www.peopleofwalmart.com/ just to see who I might have missed. The site itself is a bit slow to load due to all of the click bait so if you head over there be careful but I promise that the slice of humanity you witness is worth the annoyance. Last night I needed to run out for some supplies and headed straight for that store.

The beauty of shopping in that environment is looks don’t matter. I was dressed in my uniform of the day. Big old sweatpants, two t shirts of varying lengths – untucked of course, an old hoodie so covered in Samoyed hair that PITA would have thrown red paint on me, and house slippers. Dressed for comfort and no one gave me a second look. I grabbed my goods and headed for the checkout where I employed my system of natural selection to determine my lane. I only stand in a line where the cashier looks like they could survive outside of the store. My Wally World employs a number of special folks from the old and frail to the truly touched by the hand of something. If you get in one of their tracks buckle up because you will be there a while.

In the line next to me an obvious newbie was having just that trouble. His representative was attempting to do his job from a seated position so he kept asking the customer to take things off of the belt and hold them up for scanning with the gun. Not just enormous or heavy things either. At one point the dude just gave up and was picking up boxes of cereal for the worker to beep then bagging it himself which is a complete pain in the nuts due to their carousel system. I was waiting for the breaking point but had to check out myself so I didn’t see the final straw land on the camels back. Just as I was inserting my card into the annoying chip reader I heard “Are you fucking kidding me!?” I turned in time to see the head cashier asking the seated dude for the customer’s receipt so she could check the contents of his cart against it.

The guy went nuts. As I wheeled my own trolley away from the scene a couple people had raised their phones to document the excitement and the customer had really ramped up his swear game. I wish I had the time to stay and listen to his full concert but I had things to do. Plus there were a couple of snazzy vested cart boy slash security dudes headed that way which I’m sure diffused the situation. You don’t get that type of free entertainment at your fancy Target store.

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