The other day, while running errands with a friend, she told me she wanted to stop at Walmart on our way back to the ‘dale. Since she was driving and I was mostly just along for the ride, I didn’t feel like I could reasonably object. So we parked near the garden center area and I entered a Walmart for the fourth or fifth time in my life. And as we walked in to the place, I was thinking how glad I am for that. I’ve only purchased things at a Walmart three times, and one of those times Dan and I were on a road trip and it was the fourth of July and we had a tire blow out on the highway and the closest place we could get a tow that would sell us a tire was Walmart. Because walking in to this place. Oh. My. Flying Spaghetti Monster.
It was horrible. It was overwhelming, and gross, and dirty. Things were high up on shelves, like at a costco, except the aisles were super close together so it felt really claustrophobic and dangerous. My friend had two specific items to purchase, and she had to ask at least five different employees where to find them after we wandered around the areas that we thought might contain the items, with no luck. I’ve seen the website People of Walmart and thought it was maybe representative of a Walmart here or there, but no. Everything about that site was exactly my experience in the store. It was, in a word, frightening.
Years ago, when Walmart changed their logo to look like this, Dan and I joked about how they’d gotten a new logo that looked like, uh, a butthole. So we have this ongoing joke when the cats do the thing that cats do where they put their rear ends in our faces (if, for example, one is getting a scritching and the cat does elevator butt) about how they’re advertising for Walmart. We joked that Walmart deliberately chose that so they’d get tons of unwitting free advertising. Metaphorically speaking, what I saw in the store the other day was certainly representative of the rear end of a cat. Yikes.