I know Kimberly is not doing Secret Mommyhood Confessions today since it’s a holiday and all…but I have one for you.
I hate Wal-Mart.
Now, I know some of you are running to your Google readers and hitting unsubscribe as fast as you can because I just insulted the temple of all frugal mommies…but hear me out.
I don’t necessarily hate YOUR Wal-Mart…just every Wal-Mart I have ever been in–which is pretty limited.
In fact, up until today, I don’t think I had been in a Wal-Mart in over three years.
Go ahead. Soak that in.
So what brought me there today?
Yes, Wal-Mart AND returns. I know. What was I thinking?
I eased myself in. First I had a very pleasant return to Kohls. Then I pleasantly returned something to Bed, Bath, & Beyond.
Before leaving that parking lot, I said a little prayer for my life, started the car and headed to Wal-Mart.
As soon as I got into the parking lot, I began to curse.
First of all, they have those stupid slanty parking spaces–you know, the ones where you have to drive a certain way to park into.
Those parking places alone do not make me mad. They have them at Macy’s too and I have never been bothered by them there.
But at Wal-Mart? People do not know how to operate the parking lot. Even though it’s been this way forever.
So I am already frustrated because it takes me 5 minutes to get into a parking spot…not because I couldn’t find one…because I had to wait for people to figure out the parking lot.
The car parked, I start toward the entrance.
As soon as I got to the door, I was bombarded by no less than THREE homeless-looking guys asking for donations to several things. Now, again, I don’t mind giving to charities (in fact I give to Salvation Army when the ring their bells, and we give to others regularly each year), but I do mind strange, large men getting all up in my grill about saving people. uncool.
I get inside and an old man takes my item, scans it, and sticks a return sticker on it for me. Ok, whatever. Not sure why Wal-Mart has this process, but it doesn’t bother me.
I quickly find the Customer Service at the front of the store and let myself think for a second, “huh. they’ve re-done this Wal-Mart since I have last been here. Seems cleaner and newer…still smells the same though. Eh, maybe it won’t be so bad.”
Mistake. Wrong. Incorrect.
I stand in line with my helicopter to return. I am behind an older couple with a cart and one item. The customer service desk has four ladies behind it–three who appear to actually be doing returns and one who is supervising and helping.
From this distance? Things are still fine.
The middle customer service lady finishes up, sends someone on her way, and takes the old couple.
I wait patiently as it looks like the customer service lady on the Left will be opening up.
She does. She begins talking with the supervisor lady about her headache.
I am the only person in line with my lonely toy.
The supervisor suggests that she is hung over.
Seems inappropriate conversation seeing as there are little kids with the lady on the right.
Middle lady finishes with old couple.
I am eagerly waiting to be waved forward.
Middle lady adds to headache conversation (perhaps Left lady should have her blood pressure checked. What?)
Finally Middle lady sees me. I smile. She says, “well?”
I tell her I want to return my item, please.
She takes it from me, scans it, shoves a return receipt at me and says, “sign this.” (um…please?), and grabs it away.
While this is taking place, Right customer service lady finishes (all this while? Headache conversation has been going on. Along with much talk of booze.), and a larger man in pajama shorts and a Red Wing T-shirt with holes in it approaches her and says, “yeah I called earlier because you people didn’t give me my full refund on my thing.”
Middle lady (who is still not talking to me. not sure what I did, but at least she is actually still working on my return) says, “oh yea, I totally e-ffed (yes, she said ‘e-ffed’ and not the REAL word) that one up. It’s right there.”
Then she turns back to me, hands me cash and says, “15.92, bye.”
“Um, thank you. Happy New Year,” I say back.
She is already talking about how maybe she needs to “get laid” to get rid of her headache.
So I start to walk to the toy section to pick Eddie a new toy when I realize, they just gave me cash. I do not have to shop here!
And with that? I leave stupid Wal-Mart.
But not before another parking lot struggle.
Oh and? I bought Eddie some Melissa and Doug toys at a local toy store, in case you were wondering.
I guess I won’t be sponsored by Wal-Mart to go to any blogging conferences.