Pardon Me

I hate shopping at the W-world. The giant retail store where prices are cheap, but everyone is pissy to be there. Our local store turned into a "Superstore" the other year. Seems like the employees turned into super-buttholes too. They have no manners. And then there are the people who shop there. Seriously, why does every tom, dick, & harry who has half a brain cell left have to shop at W while I'm there? Why can't the normal people shop at the same time as me? Shit, does this mean I'm one of the wierdo's?

We live less than a mile from W. It's only natural I'm going to run there for a quick item rather than the 5 miles to the place with the giant red balls in front. And it's cheap. But every time I'm in that store, I'm swearing when I leave and tell myself I'm never going back.

The employees cut in front of the cart while you are shopping, never saying excuse me or pardon me, or even sorry. The cashiers are usually crabbier than all get-out. And it feels dirty in the store. Not that there is mud and shit all over, but it just doesn't have the same nice feel as the place with the big red balls. I can't recall I had an employee actually smile and say hello when I've been bummin' around in the store. And it's not because I look scary or have a "smile at me and you'll die" look on my face. At least I think it's not.

The parking lot is a nightmare. People waaaaaaiiiiittttt forever, clogging up traffic, for the space that Granny Smith is going to leave. In about 5 minutes, after she unloads her cart, pushes the cart back to the cart corral (if we're lucky), and then revs the engine. Waiting all the while there is a spot open 4 spaces down. You could have been in the store already, a-hole!

W-hell offers a pretty decent share of cart corrals in it's parking lot. But there is always some fucker who can't walk 10 more feet to push their cart into it. No, they have to leave it next to their car. The other week I was there and some woman parked in front of me left her damn cart go next to her cart. And she looks at me as it starts to careen right to my van. The words were forming in my mouth when it stopped. I muttered under my breath and took the cart myself. Here's the kicker. We were two spaces from the cart corral. I glared at her until her zippy little ass drove away.

Shopping at W-hell is an adventure. We always take a cart, even if we need one or two things. It's protection. We always seem to come out frazzled, pissed off, or tired. I get to practice my patience when I'm waiting in line at the check-out, often waiting longer than what I was actually shopping in the store for. Once December hits, we avoid W-hell at all costs as it's truly a nightmare.

You got any good W-hell stories?