WalMart Meltdown

You know, I'd rather take a beating than shop. For anything. I'm not the typical stereotype for a woman. I especially hate grocery shopping. But last night, after a quick dinner at Panera, my husband and I decided to stop at Wally World for "just a few things." I was tired and my patience had worn thin by the time I searched every aisle in the grocery section for beans. Just beans.

First, we hit the health & beauty aide aisle for mouthwash and razor blades. Then we trucked to the stationary department for two reams of printer paper. After a wild search for cheap potholders (since mine are shot) Mike located them hidden behind the dishtowels in the middle of the store. Why are no two WalMarts alike? Anyhoo, we circled the sock section on the lookout for soft socks. My work socks are full of toe-holes, so I decided to blow the moths out of my wallet and buy a couple pair of dollar-socks. Fine. That was when my head started to hurt, my hip began to ache, and I had to pee.

But no, we weren't quite done. Soft Scrub. Mike (the coupon King) had a buy-one-get-one-free coupon for Soft Scrub. The search was on. Up and down the aisles of dish soap, laundry soap, toilet cleaners, and Windex-like cleaners. But no Soft Scrub. "WHAT?" I screamed. "No Soft Scrub?! WHAT kind of a place is this?"

Finally, by the time I went on my wild rampage for beans, I was ready to spit. "I'D RATHER PAY DOUBLE AT HARRIS TEETER THAN SHOP IN THIS DAMN STORE AGAIN!" I shouted to no-one in particular, just anybody in earshot. After a couple of strange looks and my husband walking the opposite direction, I calmed down just enough to stand in a long line, listen to a couple of screaming babies, and then get stopped by the WalMart greeter to check my slip to make sure I didn't steal anything.

Never again. Whip me, beat me, call me Edna, I'll not go into WalMart again. Not for at least another week.

Blessings to you and yours.