Wal-Mart forgive me for I have misjudged thee

Wal-Mart forgive me for I have misjudged thee

Yes, I am still here.  The past two days were rough on me.  Thursday was the 3 month anniversary of Mom’s death.  Yesterday would’ve been the 14th birthday of our stillborn son, Jacob.  Having those two back to back were kind of brutal mentally. (And I got vomited on as well.) So, I allowed myself a day to wallow in my self-pity, moan about poor me, complain about how everything sucks, then announce that I was going to cry and go to bed early and NO one will disagree with me.  (In other words, I put the fear of Crazy Mom into the hearts of my family and they let me be.) But I am feeling much better now.  Why?  Because today I grabbed my car keys, my purse and my favorite CDs and told the family I would be back in a few hours.

What did I do?  I am glad you asked.  First I went to go see a movie.  (Do you really think I can or would resist a movie with Sarah Jessica Parker and Matthew McConaughey in it?  Absolutely not.  I owe Matt more than to ignore him on the big screen.) But this is not about them or the movie.  This is about the Post Movie I Am All Alone High that led me to a place that terrifies me.  A place that strikes fear into my heart and causes me to take anti-anxiety medication before going there.  Oh, yes, after an hour of Matt, I lost my senses and went to…..Wal-Mart.

Let me tell you straight up, I hate Wal-Mart.  Hate.  Loathe.  The aisles are too small.  It feels like it is sucking the life out of me when I am there.  I get mean.  I get anxious.  No matter how clean it is, I leave feeling dirty.  I hate going there.  I cannot recall a time where I have not left a Wal-Mart with verbally losing my cool with at least one dull-witted employee or feeling the intense need to beat the every loving snot out of at least one person.  It brings out the very worst in me.  However, when it comes to saving money, there are just some times I have to suck it up and go.  ONLY during the week.  On an off hour.  But nooooo, I was all brave and ready to conquer the world Wal-Mart.

It is the “All New” Wal-Mart.  Built to impress the Stepfords.  The creme de la creme of Wal-Marts.  Yes, I was skeptical.  I was.  I mean a Wal-Mart is a Wal-Mart is a hellish-torture-pit Wal-Mart.

I saw it as a good sign that I found a parking place right in the front.  On a Saturday.  (Impossible, people.  Unheard of!) So far, so good.  No twitching or anxiety yet.  The outside looked huge, but surely it was a trick of the eye.  Then I walked through the doors. 

I stood a few feet into the store with my mouth agape and my eyes so wide they almost popped out of my head.  There is NO WAY this is a Wal-Mart.  People, let me just tell you about this place.  H-U-G-E!  Hard wood floors.  To my immediate left was a section that overflowed with books.  Aisles of books.  And magazines.  Bestsellers.  New books.  Lots of them.  Like a mini-bookstore.  I began to wander the store.  (Did I mention the hardwood floors?) There was room in the aisles.  I mean, I could dance if I wanted to.  I had room to twirl and dance and get all jiggy with it if I wanted to. (I didn’t.  But I could have.) I walked in a state of wonderment to the home decor area.  I might have blacked out for a moment.  I came to in a most bizarre place.  Standing in front of a sushi bar.  Yes, you did read that correctly. A sushi bar INSIDE a Wal-Mart.  And it didn’t even look scary or like the fish came from discards at an old restaurant.  If I liked sushi, I would’ve dropped to my knees right there and kissed the sushi case.  But I don’t, so I didn’t.  Oh, and right by the sushi bar was a beer and wine selection one would expect to find at a liquor store with 1,200 different varieties available! 1200!  And it even has a computer that can tell shoppers which of the hundreds of wines go with which foods.

And they had….wait for it…a full service (with tables and Starbucks like atmosphere and coffee-shoppish snacks) COFFEE BAR.  In WalMart.  You could get a cappuccino or a latte and can sit inside the coffee shop in a big cozy chair and surf the Internet on the store’s Wi-Fi system. In a Wal-Mart.

And It had a spa. And nail salon.  And a big photo studio without that crappy-ass backgrounds, but real professional looking ones.  And an optometrist.  And a hair salon that didn’t even look like a SuperCuts, but a real salon. In the electronics section, there’s an entire wall of the latest flat-screen TVs.  And there just might have been a small house of worship, but I became too overwhelmed to look anymore.  It was sooo good.  I might have even had an orgasm or two just being in such a place.

I feared that if I did not buy something, the fates of Wal-Mart would curse me and make this place disappear, so I raced back to the back of the store and grabbed Dr. Pepper and wine.  (No, not to consume together.) Oh, and of course a book. Must have a book.  I thought that might be enough sacrifice to the gods of Wal-Mart.

I kid you not about this people.  It was not post-good-movie bliss.  This place exists.  I just pray I don’t fall out of the wardrobe only to discover I was in Wal-Narnia with no way back in.  That would crush me.  But, I think I can find my way back.  It is across the street from the full-size, always stocked Super Target.  I have found the intersection of heaven itself. (Though, I fear that Clint will be installing a roadblock there to ensure I am unable to spend every cent we have on my two new meccas.) But fear not.  I will return.  You can’t keep me away from such an intersection as this.  Oh no.  It is my calling to go there.  Often.

Wal-Mart, forgive me for I have misjudged thee.


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