I went to WalMart today. Nothing froths the milk on the aromatic, subtly flavorful cup of fine cappucino that is real misanthropy like a trip to Wally World.
It's like an obstacle course: get in, get what you need, and get out before your anger meter reaches the red zone and you flip out in the Health and Beauty aisle, pummeling some idiotass redneck with a box of Q-Tips.
Honest to God, we get to the cash register, and some old bag just gets in line right in front of us. Even the woman behind the register thought it was weird. What a rude bitch! But the thing that really got me was that the cashier noticed. I wasn't aware that Wal Mart hired non-catatonic people to work the register. I'm wondering if she knows she's over qualified; but maybe she was the manager filling in for somone who couldn't make it to work today.
Oddly enough, I saw a guy I recognized. It took me a few seconds to place him, but then it hit me. I knew him from a blog! Unfortunately he's not really up to blogging much lately; I thought about leaving a comment at his site, but his latest entry was sometime in April. Oh well, he must've gotten a job or something. Fuckin quitter.
Was it Bill? Did you see Bill from Bloviating Inanities?
priceless... Walmart trips are the bane of my shopping trips.. usually a last stop and usually end up with me fuming "I'm never setting another fucking foot in that store again"
I refuse to go in there for any reason. I got in the biggest fight I ever had with my wife in a Walmart, and it's because she made me go. And true to my prediction, it was a third world pre-school. And a run down nursing home. All rolled inot a giant concrete bunker.
I'll happily pay more to not go near the place.
Fucking pussies. Real men know how to shop anywhere. Here's a hint: head straight to the sporting goods section and cop a bike helmet and hockey stick, then go hit those aisles with elbows high.
Yes! Ted with the save.