A Word of Advise: If you don’t like the word FUCK, please don’t read this entry. You can fuck off, instead.
I hate going to Wal Mart. This is not really Wal Mart’s fault, not directly anyway. (Unless you count the fact they’ve driven everyone else out of business with their sweatshop’s and foreign goods passed off as “American Made.”
Yeah, SOUTH American Made, as in a sweatshop somewhere.)
But I digress.
No, the cluster fuck happens daily in the parking lot. I don’t know what it is about people when they get into a Wal Mart parking lot, but they loose what little minds they have. They go nuts to get a close parking spot so they don’t have to *gasp* WALK to the front door.
Then, once they get in the store, they wander around like lost little sheep looking at the imported trash they just have to have to satisfy their materialistic cravings. Life in a “Gimmie Gimmie” Culture.
So, we get into the store, right? And I’m getting a basket for our substandard shit we’re about to buy, when this female, cause she was no lady, squeezes around us and between the knot of people standing in the doorway TALKING for no reason. Normally, her actions wouldn’t have bothered me, and I would’ve been happy to give her what space she needed to get by, except she put her hand in front of my buggy like I was going to hit her!
Did she not think I could see her? I mean, what the FUCK, bitch?!?
Another incident happened when we went to the ladies section for items my wife needed. I was leaning on the basket, just having finished a phone call to a friend, when I noticed my wife had stepped over to the next aisle. No problem, right? None, except the woman who was giving me the hardest stare, I guess for daring to be in the ladies department. Sure I was standing on an underwear aisle, a package of ladies underwear clearly visible in the child seat, (you know, where mothers put their little shit factories when they shop), area of my cart, sitting along side my wife’s purse.
Maybe the bitch thought it was my purse and the panties were mine. Or maybe she was just a bitch. Who knows?
But I’m betting she’s just a bitch. She can fuck off, too.
And the kids! OH MY FUCKING GOD! Can you not control your banshee status symbols for five fucking minutes?!? Letting your 18-year sexually transmitted diseases run around Wal Mart screaming at the tops of their lungs is not a baby-sitting activity!