The Wal-Mart Zone

“There is a fifth dimension beyond that which is known to man. It is a dimension as vast as space and as timeless as infinity. It is the middle ground between light and shadow, between science and superstition, and it lies between the pit of man's fears and the summit of his knowledge. This is the dimension of imagination. It is an area which we call the Twilight Zone……”

Ok, so maybe I’m exaggerating a little. After all, I do indeed shop at Wal-Mart occasionally. How else would I be able to tell you the following story? For what it’s worth, Wal-Mart has decent merchandise at fair prices. I’ll give them that. However, I have experienced some pretty strange people (shoppers and employees) throughout the place. This will be the beef in the double cheeseburger I’m about to serve you.

(For better readability, I’ve condensed all of my experiences into one eventful day)

I roll into the crowded parking lot behind a line of pick-up trucks, mini-vans and at least one El Camino. As I pull into a parking space, some nit-wit has his car stereo thumping so loud that I’m thinking that my heart might get knocked out of rhythm. I can’t make out all of the words to the “song”, but the word “motherf*cker” seems to come up quite a bit.

I walk through the store entrance and am instantly met by the “greeter”. I feel bad for this guy. I mean how bored can this guy be to spend his golden years saying “Hello” to rednecks all day? Did the Dunkin’ Donut seniors kick him out of the all-day coffee drinking club?

One this particular day, it’s rather early and it appears that the first shift has recently come on board. The manager is having a rah-rah session with the employees near the front service desk. He says something, and then they respond similar to the way a group of Marines might respond to their drill sergeant. This continues for about 10-15 minutes. I can hear them as I move throughout the store. It almost seems cult-like to me and I begin to get scared.

The chanting eventually stops and I continue to shop. I hear a couple of intellectuals in the next aisle having a spirited conversation on their plans for the night. They drop more F-bombs than a gansta rap CD. To my delight, I discover that these two fine individuals are Wal-Mart employees. Nice!

As I go through the store, I decide to start playing an impromptu game of “Count The Mullets”. I’m not kidding you, I haven’t seen this many mullets since the rock concerts of the 80’s. I stop counting at a dozen when a high ranking female member of the Wal-Mart staff rolls by with gray bi-level. I fight the urge to giggle because this woman looks like she’s been in a scrap or two. And she could probably kick my ass.

A couple of kids are running through the store knocking things off the shelves. Their overweight mother threatens to “whoop their little asses” in between bites of a powered donut. The kids know that there’s no way the mother could ever catch them. So, the kids continue to wreak havoc and the mother grabs another donut.

As I enter the lawn and garden section, I hear two customers debating which gawdy lawn ornament would look better in front of their trailer. A grumpy employee (I can’t tell if it’s a man or a woman) comes over to help them with their decision. It appears that they will eventually go with a large ceramic pineapple.

As I gather my up my goods, I enter the checkout line. There I’m greeted with a nice enough cashier. She smiles at me with her summer teeth (som ‘er here, som ‘er there). One of my items needs a price check, so instead of the cashier picking up the phone, she yells across the store to another employee. It startles several people. As I’m waiting, a man wearing a cowboy hat in a handicapped scooter wants to tell me about his daily trips to Wal-Mart. He tells me that he knows all of the cashiers and that he comes in to annoy them every day. He seems very proud of this.

Then, he holds up a pack of razor blades and asks, “Guess what I’m gonna do when I get home?” I’m almost afraid to answer him. Before I can get anything out, he smiles and starts to rub his face as if he’s giving me a hint. Now, I can definitely hear the familiar music from the Twilight Zone coming from somewhere in the store. At this point, I’m officially frightened!

I tell the cashier to forget about the price check and just ring me out because I have places to go and people to see. She looks a bit confused but proceeds with the checkout. Meanwhile, the man in the scooter says, “You be sure to come back now. Ya’ hear?” I drop a couple things as I hurry to get out of the store. While I'm picking up my items, another employee comes running up to me and wants to give me a sticker to put on my shirt. I tell him "No, Thanks" and bolt out to the parking lot.

As crazy as it sounds, I will go back. Aside from getting good buys, I almost always have a memorable experience!

KW