Yesterday the Mister had to take his mom to the emergency room. She’s okay now, but at the time she was tired and miserable and hours away from going home. I was out running errands when the Mister texted me about getting comfortable clothes for his mom.
Of course, I said. Since I didn’t have her house keys and she lives 30 minutes away, I offered to go buy something. He agreed. I went into one store, then another. Yesterday was the first day in recorded history that cheap sweat pants in a size Medium were not available in the United States. Except, of course, at one store. My last resort. The place I only go in case of extreme emergency. Not just regular emergency, extreme emergency.
There are several topics one doesn’t mention in polite society: (A) religion, (B) politics, (C) income, and (D) Walmart. Not-so-coincidentally, talking about D usually involves A, B, and C. I’m going to disregard my biological impulse for self preservation and devote an entire post to my personal rules for shopping at Walmart.
Rule No. 1: Never Shop at Walmart
I get a pass on this one since it was an extreme emergency.
Status: FAILED.
Rule No. 2: Arrive with an Empty Bladder
I didn’t, so I had to venture into the Walmart bathrooms. Again, I get a pass on this one since it was an extreme emergency. I tried, unsuccessfully, meditation, mind-over-matter, and the pee-pee dance to prevent the inevitable.
Status: FAILED.
Rule No. 3: Maintain a Positive Attitude
Create a Wall of Happy. Say excuse me, please, and thank you. Show respect to fellow shoppers. Smile beatifically at the parents of children having tantrums. Be a good person.
Rattled from breaking two of my hard-and-fast Walmart rules, my Wall of Happy started to crumble.
Status: FAILED.
Rule No. 4: Bring Entertainment
I usually have a book in my purse, and of course there is always my phone. But because it was an extreme emergency, I decided to forgo a cart or hand basket in favor of grabbing what I needed. Then I walked to the “Speedy Checkout” register, only to stand in line with my arms full of miscellanea, unable to access my entertainment.
Status: FAILED.
Rule No. 5: There is no “Speedy Checkout”
Management must instruct their employees to affix Walmart price tags with spit and wishes, because there is always at least one item in 75% of the shopping carts without a price. This produces all sorts of outrage as everyone else in line waits for the mythical Price Check Employee to appear in a swirl of smoke and intone, The Soft Touch Hanes Sweat Pants, classic fit, are $9.86.”
There is also at least one shopper who will produce 400 unorganized coupons on a Sunday afternoon, ready to do battle over the price of a 32-pack of Gatorade.
I stood for 20 minutes in the “Speedy Checkout” line listening to a woman argue about the price of juice before remembering Rule No. 5.
Status: FAILED.
Rule No. 6: Expect the Unexpected
There will always be that one guy wearing something you can’t believe, or that one employee you can’t believe has a job. This is normal at Walmart, The New Colossus of shopping.
“Keep, ancient lands, your storied pomp!” cries she
With silent lips. “Give me your tired, your poor,
Your huddled masses yearning to wear spandex,
The street-rat-crazy of your teeming shore.
Send these, the butt-cracked, tempest-tost to me,
I lift my lamp beside the golden door!”
I call her Babushka, the 4’3″ fuse attached to my cannonball. Babushka, though I don’t know if she’s a Russion grandmother. Her age is indeterminable, maybe early 50s. I know she wears a headscarf tied under her chin and looks like she walked out of a Van Gogh painting. Actually, she bears a horrifying resemblance to the late Zelda Rubinstein, down to the stiff walk and raspy, child-like voice.
Babuska, my nemesis. It’s not the first time I’ve stood in her line, which always takes forever. When I see her, I run. But this time, this time she got the best of me. I was in line, almost 20 minutes by this point, when they did a shift change. I watched with dismay as a black, simple headscarf made it’s way through the aisle of bottled water like the dorsal fin of a hungry shark. I was doomed.
True to form, Babushka slowly and methodically scanned each item. If an item didn’t scan, she did it again, even slower than before. Watching her scan items is like watching a sea anemone creep along the ocean floor. She scans an item three times before reaching for the handheld scanner. I commend her for working; it must be a grueling, exhausting job. I wish she didn’t have to work at Walmart. I still want to strangle her with her headscarf.
She requested so many price checks that the mythical Price Check Employee stopped coming back. The crowd behind and in front of me started sharpening their pitchforks. “Why are we here,” said a woman holding a lamp.
“We’ve been here too long,” I said. “We’re invested in this line, so now we can’t leave.”
Four college boys tried to buy everything plus one white serving dish without a price tag. Babushka turned the bowl over and over and over again, perhaps looking for the answers to life’s most important questions. She began randomly scanning the bowl with her hand scanner in case the tag was invisible, I suppose.
I had enough. I, normally a patient person, came unglued. “Gentleman,” I called out. “If there is no price, you are not getting the bowl. Let the dream go and move it along.” Four pairs of entitled eyes turned and looked at me. I looked back.
At this point, I had been standing for 30 minutes in line to buy $7 worth of clothing. I started imagining my 30 minute drive to the hospital, walking through the halls, searching for my husband and mother in-law. Babushka, Babushka, Babushka. I texted the Mister that he would have to meet me in the parking lot.
Finally, three customers later, it was my turn. MY TURN! I walked up and handed her my items rather than placing it on the conveyor belt because I noticed the counter was wet.
“I don’t know why it’s still wet!” She said in her terrifying voice. “I cleaned it but it’s still wet! So sticky! So sticky!”
“That’s alright,” I said in what now sounded to me like a rumbling baritone. “I’m in a bit of a hurry and it’s just as easy for me to hand you this.”
“So sticky!” She said again. “I cleaned it once already!” She grabbed four squares from a roll of toilet paper and started wiping the counter.
“Perfectly fine!” I said. “But, really, I just need to get going.”
She scanned my items while I stood ready with my ATM card. I ran my card through faster than I ever have in my life. My fingers flew across the keypad. It read “WAITING FOR CASHIER”.
I was almost there, almost done. Almost out of the hellhole. And then. Dear God, and then.
“So sticky!” She said. “I don’t know why it can’t get clean!” I wanted to reach across the counter and tell Lady Macbeth to forget the damn spot and press that little button that would complete the transaction. Instead, I watched, slack-jawed, as she moved away from the counter and shuffled towards a bottle of cleanser 5 check stands away.
“No!” I yelled. “No! It’s not that sticky! Please, come back!” She didn’t hear me over the creaking of her bones. The luckiest part of my entire Walmart experience was that a manager happened to walk up to help the checker next to us. I begged her to check me out. “Just press the button,” I said. “That’s all you have to do.”
As the manager pressed the button, back came Babuska, wildly spraying her cleanser all over the counter, the lamp on the belt, the customers, the world. “Watch out, my eyes!” cried out the woman with the lamp. Babushka and her toilet paper, rubbing everything down.
Status: FAILED.
Forty minutes later, I had my $7 sweat pants. I texted the Mister to let him know I was on my way, forgetting the most important rule of all when it comes to Walmart shopping.
Rule No. 7: It’s Not Over Until Sam Walton Sings
I truly feel for you. I also *hate* Walmart with everything that is sacred. Almost as much as I hate IKEA…why, oh why, must we walk through miles and miles of store behind someone pushing a stroller with a limp?…
Haha! Our IKEA isn’t bad. Or I just have a huge tolerance for people. I tell you, I’m normally a very patient person! The Mister, on the other hand, won’t go to IKEA without extensive bargaining on my part.
Oh, and that was very funny :c)
I…I’m so sorry you had to endure that.
Then again, you just made me smile for what is quite possibly the first time all day. You, my friend, are a rock star.
:)
Why are blogs not like Facebook where I can click a Like button. Because this was hysterical.
I went to Walmart a few weeks ago for the first time in probably decades. I didn’t even need anything there, but had to sign some paperwork for my bank and it was the only in-store branch available. I wanted to give myself a Silkwood shower after.
Hahahaha! My husband said he wanted a Silkwood shower after being with my mother in-law. She tried to hug him and kiss him goodbye when he dropped her off at home and he just put his hands up and said, “I’m good, mom. Really, I’m good.”
You win the internet.
I ALMOST made some comment on your FB page yesterday when I saw you were there because Rule No. 1 but instead I tuned in today and laughed hysterically.
I’m sorry. Hope The Mister’s mom is doing better.
Oh, I think everyone was wondering what I was doing at a Walmart. Especially the ones in my area!
OMG. Sooo funny because it’s SO true! I only go to Walmart when I need seven completely unrelated items and don’t want to drive all over the place to get them. I always regret it in the end.
In my experience, it’s never worth it.
Yes. We can practically see Wal-Mart from our house, yet I will get in the car and drive 20 minutes to shop at Target because, NO. The last time I was forced to go into Wal-Mart, my husband dropped me off at the front door and wished me luck. We were late for church, he forgot he was supposed to bring clay for a boys Sunday school project, and the ONLY place open, of course, was Wal-Mart. 30+ minutes later when I stumbled out with my broken plastic container of half-dried Crayola clay, I fell into the car, looked at the Hubs, and said, “NEVER. NEVER. AGAIN. I don’t care if it’s the only store left in existence. I. WILL. NOT. GO BACK.” And I haven’t.
There’s a reason there’s a website called peopleofwalmart.com. That’s all that needs to be said. And you know what else?! I’ve been to Wal-Marts from the East Coast to the West Coast… they are ALL the same. Dante missed a circle of hell… it’s called “Wal-Mart”.
You are NOT alone.
YES! YES! A circle of hell! How many times can I agree??!!!
30+ minutes later when I stumbled out with my broken plastic container of half-dried Crayola clay…
haha! YES.
I am so sorry. Similar horrors drove me to declare in November 2001 that I would never shop there again. It has been almost 13 years since I have even stood inside a Wal-Mart. May you never have to go through anything like that again.
I love that you know the month and year. :)
Okay, I’m going against my better judgement in sharing this with the world, but here goes. Often, if you have only one or two items you can check out at the Walmart jewelry counter.
1. WHAT?!
2. You’re doomed. You will never have a short wait ever again.
Totally done that before.
OMG.. I almost peed my pants laughing. That was the most hilarious post ever! Plus, true. Sadly, true. I’m so sorry! (And happy to hear your MIL is ok)
I stopped shopping at Walmart a few years ago when my daughter was given a gift card at Christmas and we went so she could pick out something. The hordes of people ran her over with a cart (let me be clear, this was not the day after Christmas or Black Friday or any other crazy sale day). She was fine, and was able to pick out a toy and I made a vow that I would never return. I don’t know why Walmart just draws the crazies out of the woodwork, there are other discount stores so you know it’s not just about “C. Income” . They just don’t have the same… je nais se quois. :) THANK GOODNESS!
Exactly! I don’t really think it’s about income. It’s like saying poor people have no manners or class, and it’s never-ever this bad at my 99-cent store. There is just something about Walmart that brings out the crazy, like you said.
Truly laughing out loud. I feel your pain and agree 100% with you.
It’s the line! Why oh why is it the seventh circle of hell to check out!!!
And BTW, I have a running gag with my friends about the zombie apocalypse, and i nearly peed my pants over the vector comment! Please, please, please give me a way to link to that graphic or some way to share on FB!!
THE LINES. Dear God, THE LINES.
I sent you the image. :)
Ha. So true. peopleofwalmart was great for procrastinating in law school.
Glad you made it out alive!
Once, I was in line during the overnight reset time. Everything stopped for like 10 minutes, because the computers have to be reset. Yup.
Also, sunk costs–sometimes you just gotta switch lanes. Growing up, there was a dude at Safeway who always took forever. So there’d be 2 people in his line and 10 people in all the other lines, so you THINK you’d check out faster, but nope, all 10 people in the other lines will be driving away and you’re still third in slow guy’s line. YUP. Regulars figured it out.
Sunk costs, and I was also thinking (30 minutes into it) that I should have gone to the hospital, picked up her keys, driven to her house, and come back to the hospital. That would have taken less time!
I rarely go to Walmart because I just can’t TAKE it. You sum up the experience perfectly and hilariously. One saving grace though, was that you weren’t in the Walmart in Espanola, New Mexico๏ฟฝI was once, and it was truly incredible.
Now I want to go.
It’s like I just experienced it WITH you. And it was terrible.
The sticky counter- when you are soooo close- is the worst. Oh that was just painful to read…
I felt like I was in a bad movie. It was the kind of scene where you turn to your friend and say, “Oh, that would never happen. Too convenient!”
I totally just shared this on Facebook. It had me rolling and feeling so sorry for you at the same time
:)
“Yesterday was the first day in recorded history that cheap sweat pants in a size Medium were not available in the United States.”
Ugh- I have had many days like that.
I am so sorry this how you spent your Sunday! ( but thanks for the laugh!) When I saw the title of the post, my firs thought was “I have 1 rule for shopping at Walmart: Don’t.” I have been maybe 2 or 3 times to Walmarts near where I grew up (they came to the area after I moved) and those trips served their purpose, but I only went to my local one once, and then a 2nd time to just use the Redbox & even that was a nightmare. Never again!
It may be easier for me to avoid it because I think I have blocked it’s existence out of my mind. If it existed, it would be across the street from Target, where I do shop, so theoretically, would be a convenient last resort. It wold also be the one in my area, so everyone who needs any kind of bargain or is having an extreme emergency or thinks they are in need of a bargain or having an extreme emergency would shop there. Even the parking garage would reek of desperation.
My mother, however ,manages to come of her magical Walmart with her sanity intact & exactly what she went in there looking to buy.
For a very long time I pretended it didn’t exist. Then we got a fancy “Super Walmart.” There’s nothing super about it.
OMG…this is hilarious!
My daughter was born Christmas eve–and I knew she was coming and I had put off finishing the Christmas shopping. I HAD TO GO to walmart so I could finish the shopping. I was three days away (maybe two) from giving birth. Even with a baby practically falling out of me, people still would not behave! I got the filthiest looks, people ran in front of me, I said things I shouldn’t say at the holiday season. I vowed I would never go back. I have been back three times since then and have regretted it every. single. time.
hilarious! and yes, Walmart is so very wrong.
“…spit and wishes…”
This made me so happy to read, but I’m sorry you had to go through this experience.
Seriously, I LOL’ed. :)
I just went to Wal-Mart for the first time in years yesterday. Well, I should say I called first, as we’re getting a second parakeet, and I’d read on-line that Wal-Mart sells $15.00 birdcages. We don’t have a Wal-Mart very close to us, so I decided to call first to make sure they had it in stock. The man/kid (somewhere in-between) who answered told me he’d have to walk all the way across the store to check, so please understand that I’d be on hold for about 5 minutes. I pathetically thought, “Well, that was courteous of him to let me know that, rather than just placing me on a long hold.” Fast forward 20 minutes (or more); I’m not sure, because I was doing other things while waiting, but finally hung up, of course, and called back. The young woman who had connected me with this fellow originally answered, and I explained that he’d never come back on the line. She said if they had any in stock, it would just be one or two and put me on hold again over my “Wait-” Another seven minutes or so and I hung up and we just drove there. Couldn’t believe the size of the parking lot and the number of cars in it. Once we completed our trek, we did have good luck there; we got the last one in stock, went to get in line, and I quickly realized this would be bad, very bad. I immediately shifted to self-checkout, which had no wait and did go smoothly. I go once every five years to this place and have a frustrating experience each time.
Anyway, such a fun post to read, though not for you to experience. I think I’ll hear the phrase “So sticky!” echoing in my head for some time to come.
Your birdcage scenario happened to me two years ago over canning jars. Gah!!
Jules (pardon the familiarity, but I am a loooongtime reader) you killed me … :)
:D
I am terribly sorry that you had to go Walmart for me to get in quit a few chuckles and a good laugh. A big thanks though!
This deserves virality.
OK, I’m laughing at this post, but it’s more of a nervous laughter–and I feel a slight tick coming on as well.
I was in a class at college with a woman–she and her husband liked to go on dates to Walmart. I am not making this up. Of course, she was the same one who couldn’t submit her final paper because a hot dog got stuck in her printer.
Some things are just better left unknown . . .
Hahahahahahaha!!!! HOW did the hot dog get stuck in her printer?!?!
You have a gift for writing. This sounds like an excerpt from a great fiction novel, yet it is your personal experience (unfortunately). But, it makes sense because, what is it that they say? ‘Truth is stranger than fiction.’ Ironically, you were in line as long as it would have taken you to go to your mother-in-law’s house. However, life is funny that way – at least you got a story out of it! You braved Walmart and lived to tell the tale.
Thank you! :)
Yes, I figured out 30 minutes into it that I could have driven to my mother in-law’s house and back in less time. ARGH!
I agree w/Kate: you win the internet. Would have LOVED to hear you tell the boys in line to leave the bowl! To your MIL: we’re sorry you had to go through your afternoon, but what a fabulous story we got from it!
It’s like I was watching myself totally lose it. I couldn’t believe the words coming out of my mouth. I think I actually told one of them to “step away from the bowl.” O_o
I know the Walmart you were at and I know you know that we know we never, never go to that location. Partially because they keep finding bodies in trunks there, but mostly because: Just, no. I’m going to go ahead and admit that I frequently hit the fairly new Super Walmart in a neighboring city for groceries and for the most part, it always turns out just fine. Though to be fair, I don’t recall if I’ve ever gone on a weekend, and if I have I’ve obviously blocked the memory.
Nope! I went to the “nice” one you go to! I was duped.
J- this is where you truly shine with your dry sarcastic wit while painting the most fabulous visual images! I’m still crying of laughter. So great! Especially the soda. The soda! The Bain of your existence! Love it :)
THE SODA. I couldn’t believe it! I’m almost at the door and I do a Tawnya Harding on a slick of soda.
worst place ever! I also try to avoid it at all costs. To cheer you up, here’s some entertainment: http://www.peopleofwalmart.com/
Did you notice most of those people have soiled pants? What is up with that?
My eyes will never recover. I knew better than to go to that site and I went anyway. Arrgghhhh!
So true and so hilarious! You really captured the vortex of hell that is Wal-Mart. I, too, brave that place only in extreme emergencies! I’m glad that you made it out alive to regale us with your story! Also, I apologize for getting such extreme amusement at your expense, but do know that I have endured the same. :) It’s amazing how this is not just your Wal-Mart or the one in my town (in MO), but IT IS EVERY WAL-MART!! Long live Target!
Loved this story, and can absolutely relate. I too, try to avoid Wal-Mart at all costs, but unfortunately, unless I want to drive to seven different places (as Melissa said above) sometimes I have to succumb. Invariably something untoward happens, and I end up saying “never again”, but then I find myself repeating the whole process a month or two later.
The problem we face in our small city is a lack of competition: we used to have a Zeller’s (a Canadian discount store) but then Target came north and bought them all up. They closed them all and only re-opened select locations as Target; our city lost its Zeller’s but didn’t get anything in replacement :(
I’m from Arkansas, the very state where Sam Walton lived. Walmart stores are everywhere here in the South. In fact, our Walmart in my town is one of the earliest stores–#16 to be exact. I can honestly say our Walmart is one of the exceptions where Walmart stores are concerned. It is a good store and well run. Yes, it’s funny to poke fun at Walmart, even politically correct. People do it all the time, but for poor people, it is one of the few places they can afford to shop. Some of the Walmart stores may be horrible, like the one you visited, and I am sorry your experience was bad but they are not “all the same” as someone said in a reply. That is a judgmental generalization that is wrong.
I’ve been to lots of states in the US but never California. I guess it’s different there.
I’m quite sure Sam Walton has done great things for your state, and especially your community since it’s one of the earliest stores. However, and this totally generalizing, but all my experience with the South tells me that Southerners are nicer and more polite than anyone you will ever meet in southern California. I was in the panhandle a couple of years ago, and the woman cleaning our room in the hotel left us a long letter wishing us a wonderful vacation. She closed it with “God Bless.” Um, what? In southern CA you’re lucky people make eye contact.
Then I went to the supermarket because my husband got a bad sunburn. I got lost in one of the aisles, and a teenage boy who worked there asked me if I needed something, and when I told him, he walked me over to the correct aisle and talked to me the whole way there. Then he showed me all the lotions they had and told me to find him if I needed anything. WHAT? That just doesn’t happen where I live.
Your Walmart may very well be better, and it’s because there is a huge cultural difference in our states…unfortunately.
I guess it must be cultural differences. I am so accustomed to my Southern existence that it’s hard for me to imagine life being any other way. Very short-sighted of me, I’m afraid. Thank you for your sweet reply.
Oh that made my day. Reminds me why I never go in (unless absolutely required, like the CD for my husband is literally a Walmart exclusive – that was annoying.)
Lots of big box stores are the same. Some are cleaner, some are not. You’re right, Walmart discussions are right up there with politics and religion. So I’ll just say thanks for the laugh.
*cackles*
Oh god, I refuse to shop there too. Why are the lines always so slow?? The answer is: I don’t care why, I don’t have to go there. I have choices. I choose life!
So so sorry. I’m laughing too hard to say anything else!
I’m sorry. (But this is hilarious!)
there actually are NO Walmarts near where I live! Whenever we visit my in-laws (in Florida), I try to go to Walmart once – I think of it as a sociological expedition.
This brightened my whole morning. :) I feel terribly bad for you, but I think you managed to completely redeem the experience with this hilarious and sadly true post. Thank you thank you.
This is why I never go there. I got desperate a year ago while I was dying my IKEA couch cover and ran out of dye and had to venture to Walmart since the store I had bought them from was out. It was raining pretty hard but I didn’t think much of it. When I was leaving (dye-less!) I noticed a large number of people waiting for the rain to stop right inside the entrance. I ended up just running to my car through the rain because I had already seen enough. Sure enough on the news later that night those people that were waiting out the rain had to be rescued by boat as the Wal-Mart started to flood! I always think going to Wal-Mart is bad enough – but having to be rescued by boat is just insane.
I have read your blog with interest for some time, but never commented before, but you’ve made me laugh out loud today. I live in the UK and don’t know Walmart, but I have a fair picture of it after your post!
This. Is. Amazing.
Wanted to add too that I do regularly shop at Wal-Mart, but only on weekdays and before 10 a.m. It’s a different world there on a weekday morning. :)
BWAHAHAHAHA!!! So sorry … this completely made my day. This is my experience EVERY TIME I visit that God forsaken place!! I swear it’s the ghetto of retail stores :/ I am going to have my husband read this just so he can fully understand (from someone who so eloquently versed it) my psychotic aversion to shopping there!! I literally get anxiety just thinking about having to walk into there to do any shopping.
The only time I have ever seriously contemplated shoplifting* was standing in one of those interminable lines at Walmart for a pair of tights. I’ve actually never gone back.
*Okay, fine, as an adult. I may have been less morally upright at 13.
My husband and I LOVED this post!! It brought back our Walmart memories, reminding us to never go back there again.
My only memories of going to Walmart (most are blocked from my mind) are during life changing events. My first memory of Walmart was in Los Angeles. My husband and I went to Walmart because we had received a decent gift card from a loving family member who refused to use our registry. When we got there it was mostly empty, so we thought, “SCORE!” We easily found all the items we needed and then headed to checkout. There was only one line and EVERYONE was in it! We decided to wait and we are finally at the point where we are waiting to place our items on the belt, when the line next to us opens!! The cashier calls us over and we feel like the luckiest people alive… until the cashier realizes the computer doesn’t work and tells us to get back into the line we were in, but no one will let us in. So we start all over….. ugh figures!!!
My second memory of Walmart was only months ago, right before my son was due. I happened to be in Utah where a Super Walmart was the closest thing to me. I usually would drive 20-40 mins out to shop at Target or Smiths, but this day I was hungry and tired so I braved Walmart. It was packed and it took me 25 minutes to get to the back of the store just to get the items I needed. People inside the store were INSANE and I was thankful I made it to my items alive, but I was hungry (didn’t bring snacks because I thought this would be quick) and thirsty (left my bottle in the car)… so I headed out only to find myself stuck behind every slow unaware person and family with 5 kids blocking aisles upon aisles. I started cramping bad and it was bad enough I had to just stop and breathe. I prayed my son could hold out until I got out of the store and I promised him I would never venture into hell (Walmart) again. I don’t remember the line, I know it was long and it took me 30 minutes to get to it. Well my son waited a week and a half to come and as I promised him, I have not gone back!!!
This is brilliant.