Blogs Are Stupid

Doesn't anyone believe in Dear Diary anymore? What happened to the joy of putting actual pen to paper? And why does every ordinary Jane and John think they can write well enough to burden the world with their scribblings? It’s a mystery that badly needs solving. My first entry contains my thoughts about blogging and will set your expectations. The rest will probably be stream of consciousness garbage, much like you’ll find on any other blog. Perhaps we will both come away enlightened.

Monday, December 22, 2008


Yesterday, I braved a store I avoid assiduously every other day of the year. AND, I braved it three days before Christmas. I should be given a purple heart. Can you guess?

Yes, Wal-Mart.

Now, there is no ethical or philosophical opposition that behooves me to avoid said establishment. I know their prices are cheaper because they use sweat shop labor and employ toddlers and do all sorts of shady things like making bedclothes out of asbestos and human waste.

I know corporate giants such as they have made the Mom and Pops and the Family Owned businesses all but extinct.

And I know I should care about that.

But really the reasons I avoid Wal-Mart are simpler and much more self-serving.

In a nutshell, their service sucks.

They never have enough cashiers. They are always sold out of the thing that I need, regardless of what that thing is. It irks me to have to hike five miles to the other side of the store with a fully laden cart when I forget q-tips or cat food.

But most of all....the people who shop there give me the willies.

Nonetheless, I went today, because frankly, I'm desperate.

I ended up with an unequal number of packages. If you have more than one child, you know that this is an invitation to jettison your retirement income paying for family therapy.

I was in Sporting Goods contemplating my choices.

Suddenly, a woman swept past me on a current of cigarette smoke and a cloud of White Diamonds. She was moving quickly and I looked, wondering if there was some kind of emergency afoot. Most of us Moms only move that fast when we are trying to avert certain disaster, right?

I thought maybe a gun rack or a duck blind had fallen on top of a small child.

But no. She was just well and truly pissed off.

"That mo-ron just snaytched a basketbawl raht outta Joonyer's hands!"

"Whut? Wha cayn't he lookit a bawl?"

"That's whut I wannna know. And I wanna know wha that aysshole thanks he can lay his hands on MA chiled."

"He better not hayav. I'll kick his muhfuckin ayss."

"He DID! He tol' Joonyer he coon't do that and just snaytched it away."

"Well wha can't he lookit a bawl? SIR! Why cayn't he lookit a bawl?"

"Sir, he can certainly look at the ball. But he can't bounce it in the store."

"He wun't bouncin' the bawl, was you sun?"

I got the distinct impression that said parents had no idea what, in fact, Joonyer had been doing. I was also quite certain Joonyer had indeed been bouncing the ball.

The child in question managed to look innocent and hangdog all at once.

"No Deddy. I wun't."

"Sir, he was bouncing the ball, quite hard, and I asked him to stop several times."

"Well why cayn't he bounce the ball 'en.?"

"Sir, the store is very crowded today. He could injure someone or break something."

"Well howzee sposed to know if it's a qwalty product if'n he don' tra it oyut?"

The sales associate was momentarily taken aback by the stupidity and pointlessness of this man's argument. I saw him mentally ticking off possibilities available to him at this point.

He opted for sarcasm.

"Sir, all of our balls are rigorously tested and come with a satisfaction gaurantee."

I had to smother a snort and a large black gentleman perusing free weights shook with supressed laughter.

"Well goo-."

He stopped, considering. He didn't immediately understand that he was being made the butt of a joke, but eventually, realization dawned, and his florid face became an even deeper and somewhat alarming shade of red.

"I guess you thank 'at's purty funny, doncha smartayss?"

"Have a Merry Christmas, Sir."

"Up yours aysshole."

Blown up with indignation, the man strutted away like a banty rooster, muttering loudly about poor customer service.

The sales associate turned to another empoyee and said,

"Dude, I'm going to take my break before I kill someone."

To all the retail employees...hang in there. Just a few more days of madness to endure. Just a few more rednecks to suffer.

Merry Christmas.


  • At 9:49 AM, Anonymous Anonymous said…

    Wal-mart gives me the willies,too. Sometimes when I go there, I swear I hear banjo music...

  • At 12:41 PM, Anonymous Anonymous said…

    That's why I left retail customer service. When Im at a store and get good service, Im quick to thank them.

  • At 12:42 PM, Blogger Amy Y said…

    I stay as far away from Wal*Mart as I can... for all the reasons you do and don't.

    I'm happy to hear you survived and thanks for the redneck humor. :)

  • At 12:58 PM, Blogger Girlplustwo said…

    good lord. i haven't been in one of those places in years. didn't someone get trampled to death recently?

    what is this world coming to, BA?

  • At 2:40 PM, Blogger Sarahviz said…

    Hubby braved the SUPER Wal-Mart crowd this weekend (bless him) and returned without my Rolos that I needed for a recipe. Who runs out of ROLOS?????
    Wal-Mart does, apparently.

  • At 4:02 PM, Blogger A Bite of Country Cupcakes said…

    Dang! That there was funny!!

  • At 4:05 PM, Blogger Fairly Odd Mother said…

    Yeah, my mom worked in retail for years and years and Christmas was really a tough time of year. She was constantly amazed by the (mostly) men who ran in at 4:30pm on Christmas Eve looking for "XYZ" for their wife and then getting angry for the store for being out of it.

  • At 6:52 PM, Blogger Green-Eyed Momster said…

    You do a really good redneck!
    I'm hanging in there. People don't usually kill each other over vitamins. So, no casualties where I work yet!! LOL!!

    It's the attitude that people have this time of year. They don't seem to have much patience. Maybe because they all come in the store where I work after they've been to Walmart. Who knows?

    Wishing you and yours a happy holiday season and a happy new year!!


  • At 9:48 PM, Blogger Crazed Nitwit said…

    I spent one Christmas season working at a Target. One of the freaking longest Decembers of my life! I can understand the clerks attitude and his need for a break before going postal.

    Funny story.

  • At 10:57 PM, Anonymous Anonymous said…

    I work at a portrait studio, and yesterday suffered through an argument of ingenius idiocy with a customer who was 15 minutes late for his appointment because, and I quote, usually we are running late on appoints so he was in no hurry to be one time. And was mad because we were on time and therefore, he missed his appointment and no I couldn't just "squeeze him in"

    Redneck is synonymous with ignorant asshole, I believe.

  • At 8:29 AM, Blogger jess said…

    Lol, I hope Flutter is reading!

  • At 8:49 AM, Blogger Woman in a Window said…

    What righteously superior service (and wit!) Good man, Walmart person, good man!

    (My MIL told me about a happening at Walmart in Ohio, one that we frequent when we visit. Two guys mugged a lady at gunpoint. She gave up her purse no fight, no problem. Then they shot her in the stomach. She lived. They were got. Merry twisted Christmas. F't!)

  • At 7:26 PM, Blogger crazymumma said…

    There is NOTHING like Walmart.

  • At 9:35 PM, Blogger Major Bedhead said…

    I work at Target. Yeah. Christmas shoppers? Suck. Su-hu-hu-huck.

    The WM near me is populated with such denizens as yours, only with New England accents. I hate it.


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