I was in the world of Wally the other day with my husband, grabbing a few items we needed, but couldn’t get in a one stop spot save from Walmart. Reluctantly, we grabbed a cart, and to our surprise, it wasn’t broken. We made our way through the store to pick up milk, shampoo, a new Rock band controller, some yarn and dog food. Went off without a hitch. Everything was on the shelves, clearly marked and priced, and an associate even offered help on her own free will. There weren’t any screaming babies or half clad over weight women. I didn’t even see a single mullet. Convinced I was about to wake up at any moment, I decided to rush to the front to pay for our items and high tail it outta there to see if we’d won the lottery or inherited some small profitable country. We get to the front, and the lanes are open. Open with no customers. No waiting to check out… Surely hell’s temperature had dropped to 14 Kelvins. We check out and just as we’re about to hand over the money, the store manager walked by us. There was a smell lingering in the air so putrid I gagged. I looked around, and the manager himself had exploded in what must’ve been the in store Taco Bell, and there is feces stained on the back of his pants and coming down his right leg, even leaving a trail on the floor. I swiped my card as quickly as I could, exchanged a look with my husband of disgust and we hurriedly left the store.
Once we got to the car I felt very foolish and stupid that I could assume a perfect visit to Walmart is more than just fantasy… still beating myself up over than one.