The Places You Have Come To Fear The Most

I. Hate. Walmart.
On Tuesday, I was forced to shop at Walmart in order to finish my Xmas shopping. I say "forced" because ever since the documentary Walmart: The High Cost of Low Prices, Mr. Bee & I pretty much refuse to spend money at the soul-sucking, small-town-ruining, employee-abusing corporation. In fact, we regularly refer to it as The Store That Shall Not Be Named or, as my husband humorously concocted, VoldeMart.

Despite our dislike for the company, every once in a while we are forced to shop there for gifts because my in-laws LOVE Walmart. For years I've tried to influence both my husband and his parents towards the Quality end of the expensive=quality/inexpensive=crap purchasing spectrum. It's taken about 7+ years, but I've finally convince Mr. Bee.

My in-laws? Not so much.

In fact, they would rather have cheaper items so they don't have to maintain them. I've pretty much given up and decided that I'll just give them the stuff they want so they'll be happy, even though I'd be happier knowing that I'm not throwing money away on crappy products...

But I digress.

So, Tuesday I packed up the baby and headed off to The Store. I had to go to a different VoldeMart than the local one because they carried a particular gift I was looking for. I glanced at the map online and figured it must be pretty well developed area right off the freeway and how could I possibly miss a Walmart. I mean, come on. It's Walmart.

Well, I was wrong. Apparently this is the ONE store in the area that doesn't believe in signage AND isn't locating directly on the main road. How the crap does anyone find this place if you weren't born in middle-of-nowhere-ville?! And why is parking always horrible at Walmart? I had to spend like a half hour driving around the parking lot hunting for a spot, fighting with the ancient Ford Probes and Camaros circling like sharks.

After parking in what seemed like Canada, Bee and I began the hike through an ice-coated parking lot to the main entrance. Once we entered the store, I practically go in to heat stroke and have to strip Baby Bee and I down to practically our skivvies. Why can store never get the temperature right? In the summer, when your dressed appropriately for 90 degree weather, the stores will be frigidly cold with air conditioning. Then in the winter, when you are obviously going to be bundled up to survive the 17 degree weather outside, the stores will pump up the heat like you are in a Turkish bath. What the hell!

After fighting with shoppers for a shopping cart, I'm instantly overwhelmed by the fussing and screaming babies.

Oh, wait. That was Bee.

Between Bee screaming and crying with snot dripping out of her nose and trying to navigate the horribly labeled aisles full of, well, complete crap, I somehow manage to find this jem for my Ugly Christmas Sweater Bunco Fiesta:

*****

Side note: First of all, shitty picture, right? I look about 50 years old and well, this photo kind of makes me throw up in my mouth a little. While doing my hair and makeup for the party, I just kind of gave up halfway through. I mean, no amount of beautifying can make this outfit better, right?

And, oh yeah, baby, that's a poinsettia turtleneck, too. AND, the reason I look about 800 pounds is because this beautiful, hand-crafted mass-produced piece of art only came in three sizes: Large, Extra Large, and Seriously You Need To Go On The Biggest Loser Post Haste.

*****

After finding the requisite presents (with no help from the despondent Walmart "associates," thank you very much), I ran my ass out of there as fast as I could.

Like every year, I once again pledge that I will never give that germ-ridden store another dollar.

Until next Christmas anyway.

Song title: The Places You Have Come To Fear The Most by Dashboard Confessional