WalMart: Hell on Earth

I DESPISE WalMart. I hate it with every itty, bitty atom of my being, with every fibrous speck of my soul. And as soon as our next animatronic president makes Anarchy Day* an official U.S. holiday, I’m going into the local WalMart loaded for bear, and I’m goin’ Columbine on their collective ass. Speaking of which: if Klebold and Harris had had an ounce of cohones between them, they would have skipped school that day and played Trench Coat Mafia in the aisles of their local Mega Store. Perhaps they WOULD have had the cohones if they hadn’t spent so much study hall time huffing Aqua Net and whining about getting beaten up by the big, bad scary jocks. I’ve never understood that anyway; big deal, so you can throw a ball to some big sweaty retard and you enjoy patting other boys on the ass in the shower room. What, does that make you Jet Li or something?  What it makes you is (possibly) a closeted homosexual without the nerve to come out of said closet–which means that every “sensitive” emo-listening bisexual drama kid has MORE balls than you, and I ain’t referring to the pig-skin variety, Joe Namath.

But I digress.

WalMart. Hate. Destroy. Good!

So WHY do I hate a popular chain of stores that were built from the ground up by a hard-working Horatio Alger guy like Sam Walton…a man who (legend says) rode around in a beat-up pick-em-up truck and wore $50 suits, ’cause he was a (by-God) REAL AMERICAN! What am I, some kinda COMMIE?

A better question would be: why DON’T I hate WalMart…but that wouldn’t allow me to scream and rant, so it’s just not as fun for me, okay? And since this is MY blog, I’ll thank you to stop asking questions and give in to the Dark Side.

So here’s a list of reasons WHY I hate WalMart, which from this point forward shall be called ‘HellMart’ instead:

  1. That yellow smiley face thing that we’re supposed to believe bounces around joyfully, lowering prices like some kind of demented elf. I’m absolutely shocked that HellMart hasn’t started up its own Saturday morning cartoon based on the thing.
  2. Those old people that stand at the front door and selectively tell people “Hello!” in a disgusting show of forced peasant pleasantry. They call them “greeters”. I’ve walked into my local HellMart dressed in my own $50 suit (complete with a tie that was actually bought there, I’m ashamed to admit), fresh from my horrid job as a small-town newspaper reporter. Because I looked professional, the greeter smiled warmly and bade me good-day. But this aw-shucks attitude dissolves quickly enough when I come in on my day off, dressed in cut-off black combat fatigues, hiking boots, a t-shirt that reads CUNNING LINGUIST and my hair twisted up into Sid Vicious spikes. The more mannered greeters pretend to study some list they always seem to have close at-hand; the uber-crotchety geezer greeters are at least honest enough to broadcast their hatred and ungreetings openly. I earn a scowl–at best, a scowl followed by a barely perceptible nod. “I’ll be watching you, sonny!” the scowl seems to promise. This always makes me think that maybe I am some kind of closet kleptomaniac that is somehow unaware of my crimes. But I see you! the geezer’s look promises. For the rest of my time in the store, I’m looking over my shoulder, expecting HellMart security commandos (led by the geezer, with his outstretched cane, riding on one of those battery-powered go-kart things they always have charging at the front of the store.
  3. The habit of HellMart store employees to follow “suspicious looking” customers (example: me) from aisle to aisle, pretending to be incredibly devoted to dusting or straightening stock on the shelves. Hey! I’m not going to steal! Go do your job!
  4. Low prices. Unlike many Americans, I’m all too aware of the REAL price we pay for the privilege of being able to purchase 20 rolls of toilet paper for 14 cents. There are some good documentaries out there on the damage corporations like HellMart do to the economy. Check out WalMart: The High Cost of Low Price
  5. High prices. I’m an AMERICAN! I know my RIGHTS, damn you! I DEMAND 20 rolls of toilet tissue for 11 cents!
  6. HellMart’s “corporate morality enforcement” regulations. Once upon a time, musicians that were threatened by censorship fought back. Ozzy threatened to bite the heads off every dove in the nation if the censors didn’t back off; Judas Priest threatened to commit suicide if the record-burnings did not cease and desist; Michael Jackson announced he would molest 1 child a day for every day censorship continued, and 1 child a day for every censorship-free day as well. NOW what do musicians do? They make two versions of their record, giving in to PMRC types and making bank by doing so. HellMart censors EVERYTHING. Unless they approve of it. Sieg HEIL, HANNAH MONTANA! 
  7. Last but far from least: the “10 Items or Less” Aisle system. This is really a “dual-hate” issue. I DO hate HellMart for their uncharacteristic spinelessness on this issue. But I ALSO hate the woman in front of me that has a basket with 693 items in it. In fact, I hate this woman MORE. Can you not READ, Lady?! “10 Items or Less” doesn’t look Greek to me. Puzzle it out! And if you CAN’T read, let me give you some help: Turn around. See that L-O-N-G line stretching out behind you? Notice that everyone has only a couple items in their hands? Most of us don’t have a basket! Why do you suppose that is? Could it be because MOST OF US CAN HOLD THE FEW ITEMS WE HAVE IN OUR HANDS? Do you also see how everyone is scowling at you? That’s because we want to kill you. In fact, since I haven’t eaten in a while (and thanks to your 693 purchases it looks like it might be a while longer), I might have to cannibalize you and your kool-ade stained, perpetually crying toddler, too! And lookie here! ONE of my TWO items just happens to be Sweet-n-Sour sauce! I’ll bet you taste G-G-G-R-REAT with some S&S sauce for dippin’! And God knows, none of us will miss you.

Well, that’s about all the hate we have time for boys and girls. I’ve got to some compound buildin’ to do. The end is getting more and more nigh. The Evil Robots will soon be here. Maybe they’ll start their reign of blood and terror at WalMart. One can only hope they like low prices, too.

*=Please see “Anarchy Day: The Great American Holiday That Never Was”…a reprint will be available         soon(ish).

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