Wednesday, January 21, 2009

Idiots at W*lm*rt

Somehow I have escaped going to W*lm*rt for about a month - I haven't kept a journal or anthing, but I don't think I've been since at least a couple of weeks before Christmas. It is not my favorite place in the world to shop. Not because I don't like the store, but the other shoppers drive me crazy. They stop in the aisles with their shopping carts at right angles, talking about who has died, divorced, sleeping around, etc. totally blocking my path. I am not a leisurely shopper at WM, I am on a mission, so people blocking my path do not make me happy.

However, there are times you just have to bite the bullet and go because as much as I prefer T*rget, they don't have all the things I sometimes need. I was out of many necessities, so I braved it after work tonight. It was surprisingly not bad. No blocking of the aisles, no parking carts on one side of the much too narrow food aisles and then standing on the other side, and there was actually more than one check-out lane open.

However, the idiots were still there - it was too much to ask that I totally escape them. In the magazine aisle I encountered a father and daughter (I think - I hope she wasn't his girlfriend!) Keep in mind the temperature was in the 30's. She had on boots - short coat, scarf, and hot pants (or whatever they are now called). Shorts up to her butt cheeks, even shorter than you see in the summer. What father would take his daughter shopping with those on?

Then, over in the food aisles an athletic man whirls his cart around the corner almost colliding with me and he also has on running shorts! I respect his right to be fit and exercise however he sees fit, but don't you think you would keep a pair of jogging pants in your car to put on after running and before shopping in frigid weather?

1 comment:

Anonymous said...

I'm so much with you on this.
In fact lately
I run away the most I can
from this kind of places.
Find it too much stressful
and very, very, VERY, tiresome.
Sometimes it has to be though...

Nela*