I’m sure everyone is sick of hearing about my hatred of Walmart, but you guys. Our Walmart is SO AWFUL I can barely even describe it. It’s like if somebody took a regular Walmart and filled it only with people who have been featured on more than one episode of “Cops,” and then handed each of those people three dirty kids and a handful of stink bombs to let off in the aisles. On Black Friday eve last year, a woman reportedly pulled down her pants and took a crap outside of the front doors because she left the line and the employees wouldn’t give her spot back. I like to imagine Squanto looked down on that Thanksgiving scene from Heaven with pride.
Our Walmart was recently made into a Super Walmart, and now features a bunch of express lines. Which is awesome in theory, but I can’t tell you how many times I’ve found myself standing in the express line holding one or two things while a lady with a trucker’s build and a Tweety Bird tattoo on her left boob takes 20 minutes to pile her cart full of frozen dinners and Schlitz cases onto the tiny ledge without the mountain toppling over. I’ve come to refer to this charade as Hillbilly Jenga.
If you’re reading this, Tweety, THE LEDGE IS SO SMALL BECAUSE IT’S ONLY MEANT FOR 10 ITEMS. By the way: The same principle applies to your PajamaJeans, and it’s time to size up.
What gives me the most rage is that this problem is totally avoidable. How hard is it to make it a policy for cashiers to only ring up the allotted number of items? I want to apply for a job at Walmart just so I can ring up 10 of these peoples’ items, tell them, “THAT’S ALL YOU GET!” and send them back to the start of the line. And then I’d quit real fast before I got stuck cleaning their anger poop off the floor.