Got Milk?

In case you've wondered what I've been up to while I'm NOT cleaning out the hall closet - I am planning and preparing a reunion for my former college sorority sisters. I had to go to Wal Mart last night to get paper goods, condiments, cleaning supplies, etc. to stock the house we've rented for the occasion at a lakeside resort some 500 miles from my home. I hate Wal Mart, but trying to be a good steward of the reunion money, I opted to shop there. What is it about that store that irritates me so? From my arrival at the parking lot I was peeved by the inconsiderate, stupid drivers. Had the same drivers been at my neighborhood grocery store would I have been as annoyed? Probably not.

When I entered the store (after circling the parking lot, behind the aforementioned idiot driver, two times in search of a place to park and then having no other choice but to park next to the "kart" return "korral" where I'm certain errant "kart" returners bumped into my kar, I mean car), the famous Wal Mart greeter - the kindly senior citizen posted at the door - Why? is this an attempt to make you feel as if you've just entered a Mom & Pop General Store? or are we supposed to believe that our own grandparents would endorse such a mega-market? I'm certain my grandfather, PaPa, on his best day could not have navigated the parking lot and my grandmother, my sweet, blue-haired MaMa, would still be on aisle 4 trying to locate the Sweeta, an early artificial sweetener that made her diabetes tolerable. However, my one surviving grandparent, Big Red, at 102 would probably enjoy being pushed through the store in the black and chrome Wal Mart wheelchair (provided I could find enough antibacterial wipes to sanitize it) and greeting the throngs of baby-boomer shoppers who would recognize her as their second grade teacher. Even blind and nearly deaf, she would hold their hands and ask them about all of their siblings (by name). But I digress, back to the kindly gray-haired greeter posted at the entrance to welcome me to Wal Mart - he ignored me! He was talking to another old geezer and didn't even acknowledge my arrival. To add insult to insult, I had to fight my way through the heavy, hanging strips of plastic that were protecting the shopping "karts" and wrangle my own shopping buggy. Isn't shopping "kart" valet in their job description? That and smile and actually greet the customer? This guy was obviously the Jeff Spicoli of Wal Mart greeters, a real slacker.

I could regale you with the horrors of my shopping experience, about missing shelf price tags and crowded aisles and how I had to traverse the entire expanse of the store, twice, in search of liquid hand soap. But I can't bring myself to re-visit those details - it is too soon, the wounds are too fresh. Let me just leave you with this: After carefully choosing my check out lane, opting for the one with eight customers with moderately full "karts" vs. one with six customers with heaping "karts", the customer in line ahead of me drops a one gallon plastic jug of milk (2%) as he is taking it from atop the sacking carousel. (At Wal Mart they don't place your sacked groceries back into your "kart" or have a carry-out boy or girl or man or woman escort you to your vehicle and place your purchases neatly into your trunk.) The sweaty jug of milk slips from his hand and makes a slow-motioned descent to the floor. Upon contact the plastic jug bursts open and anyone within a five-foot radius (me) is splashed with reduced-fat milk while a river of milk and Wal Mart dirt begins running under my feet.

The bored teenage cashier, who bore a striking resemblance to Napoleon Dynamite's brother, left his post in search of maintenance. Upon his return, without any maintenance personnel, he announced to his line of customers, as he flipped off the light that illuminated the number seventeen over his head, "I'm closed." Luckily (and I use that term in the loosest possible manner), my purchases were already on the milk sodden conveyor belt so he had no choice but to scan my items, as I stood there with milk in my shoes.

The total for my "kart" full of cleaning supplies, paper goods, canned food and condiments was under $50 - a startlingly low figure for the amount of items I purchased. I tried really hard not to remember the employees had no health care as I left the store in search of my car - somewhere out there in the parking lot.