I have a fundamental issue with Walmart.
It is two-fold. I shall elaborate with bullets.
- FOR WHATEVER GODFORSAKEN REASON, PEOPLE IN THE (DEEP) SOUTH MAKE WALMART PLURAL. As in, “I’ma goin’ down to the Walmarts for some fresh bait.” There is only one Walmart that they plan to visit. Only one. ALWAYS A WALMARTS.
- They are pretty much a derivative of Satan. For proof, feel free to rent The High Cost of Low Prices and then see if you can ever buy anything from them.
- A small, but nonetheless meaningful to me, issue is that I do not know how to spell them. WalMart? Walmart? Wal-Mart?
As you can see, even passing a store is enough to make me shake my fist, “NEWMAN!” style, at the entire Walton family.
.. um, until they started this whole Canopy line.
Alright, I’ll admit it. MUCH OF OUR NEW HOME HAS BEEN OUTFITTED WITH CANOPY PURCHASES BOUGHT AT THE WAL-MARTS.
Seriously. And? And I love EVERYTHING I’ve tried there, like a billion times over.
I AM SO NOT PROUD OF THIS. I am a devoted Target shopper.. and believe me, EVERY TRIP I make to the walmarts COMPLETELY reinforces my love for Target.. clean, well-lit, respectable Target. But? Honestly, what I’ve purchased at Target is not NEARLY the same quality as the Canopy line AND it’s more expensive.. sometimes by a considerable amount.
Alright, confession is over.
I went to THAT DAMNED STORE today with the express purpose of picking up white dishware. I did so because 1) Canopy makes some and Y’ALL, DO YOU KNOW HOW MUCH I LOVE CANOPY YET? and 2) the set I found is also sold BY THE PIECE which is ingenious because one of us is clumsy and breaks shit. (.. it’s me.) Replacing a piece is SO much better than replacing an entire set, yaknow?
Here. Gaze at it. Gaze and love. Like I did.
Oven, microwave, and dishwasher safe. Manna from the gods, I tell you.
And, after paying, carefully sliding that baby on the bottom rack of my cart, making my way to my car, unpacking the buggy, driving away, returning some pants I bought at Target, assing off at Target as a penance for shopping at THAT DAMNED STORE earlier, picked up my restless child, and began unloading the trunk of my car .. REALIZED THAT MY DISHWARE WAS STILL SITTING IN THE BOTTOM OF MY CART. AT WALMARTS. (Thankfully, just one of them.)
I called, frantic, and got some lady on the phone who.. in all honesty.. spoke VERY broken english. I got my plight out to her while trying to corral my child BACK into his carseat (haha, say you moms, and you are SO RIGHT), and she said, “Oh, okay. See you with the dishes!” and she hung up.
I was undaunted. (But I may have been crying.)
I went back to THAT DAMNED STORE and stood in line at Customer Service for FIFTEEN FREAKING MINUTES with a two-year old. I kept promising a “ride in the car” at the kids’ game center as a reward, even though my child had never been in a motorized ride of any sort and I might as well have been offering a tubal ligation for a reward. When I got to the front of the line, Jackie (.. or so she said) asked if I had a receipt (YES) and if I had the dishes with me. (.. NO?!) Then she told me to go get the dishes off of the shelf and bring it back and she’d see what she could do.
BACK IN LINE, JACKIE? REALLY?!
She said, “Okay, just skip the line and walk up here and we’ll see.”
I took my heavenly child to the kids’ center, where EVERY FREAKIN’ RIDE WAS BROKEN BUT STILL TOOK MY MONEY. Then I pulled him kicking and screaming into a cart and we hauled ass to the dishes, grabbed my set, and headed back to the Customer Service desk.
I strolled up to the desk, as I had been told.
Which, understandably, pissed off the people in line.
One construction worker huffed up to me and said, “We’re ALL in line here, ma’am.”
Tony must’ve seen something familiar in my eyes, cause he immediately signed “SORRY SORRY SORRY” and told the nice gentleman “NO NO.” I turned to scorch the man into the earth when Jackie said, “Oh, no, I told her to do that. Now get back in line.”
Jackie at that point looked at Tony, looked at me, skimmed my receipt, and wished me a good night.
.. TILL NEXT TIME, WALMARTS.