I Put Leftover Food In Plastic Containers...

Brace yourselves --> I found myself in a situation recently where I needed an item from the store. Yes I know, how compelling. HOWEVER, what makes this a "situation" is that it was past 10pm, and the Target was closed. (Bum, bum, bummmmm) Therefore, I found myself faced with the terrifying realization that my only other option was to drive over to Wal-Mart. I realize that I probably could've waited until the morning, but being a person of very little patience, ain't nobody got time for that. Not to mention the fact that I'm always up for making fun of people different than me, and I have no doubt this place is riddled with 'em. And please keep in mind, this is Wal-Mart I'm going to, it's not like I have to get all fancied up. Who do I have to impress? I know you've seen some of these people. In fact, I purposely picked out the shittiest thing I could find and threw it on, knowing full well that I'd still be the best dressed person there. Even as I pulled up and in to the lot, I spotted three people walking out in their pajamas. Pajamas. Yeah I know it's late and all, and it's Wal-Mart, but no one wants to see you in faded Spongebob Squarepants pajamas, which were obviously left in the dryer too long. Seriously, who wears this out...in public. Is everything else you own currently stuffed inside your washing machine? Have some self-respect, man. I should've turned my ass around, gone home, and rocked myself to sleep in a corner, but no...I'm here for a reason.

As soon as I walk in, the very first section is the produce. Unfortunately, I don't smell fruit, just menthol cigarette smoke. Lovely. Or maybe scientists finally found a way to combine hand fruit with Newports, and I just missed the memo. Regardless, it smells like shit. And while I'm thinking about it, why is this place so goddamn crowded? It's like a night club in here. It's 11pm, and a Thursday. Do any of you people work tomorrow? Or is that just a stupid question? Probably a stupid question. And it's not just the shoppers that frighten me, it's the employees. Why is it that a majority of these workers look like they own a 1970's van with blood stained carpeting? There was actually one point where I was convinced I recognized one of them from To Catch A Predator. Oh look, an overweight woman in the cookie aisle, and she's dragged her dozen kids along with her. First of all, why aren't these kids at home sleeping? I'll tell you why, because you've managed to stuff your cart with 3 different brands of "Chips Ahoy!", and 1 of the packages is open. This is why your kids aren't asleep, lady...and the reason I have to deal with them now. This might also explain why this place is such a friggin' mess. You have 65 people working, yet no one is cleaning. Please do something about this. Finally, the area I need, on the far end of this shithole. And just when I think things couldn't get any worse....they do NOT have what I need. Motherffff -- you know what? I'm outta here. But wait, I seem to be tempted by a bag of beef jerky before I hit the door. I'd love to pay for it, but I'm not sure which one of these freaks is the cashier, they appear to be dressed in pajamas too, but blue and khaki colored ones. Maybe this is a store requirement? Pajamas only. If so, I need to be removed, immediately. Do I go to register 8, where the 106 year old woman is holding things down? Actually, now that I start to study her with my head titled, it's possible she could be a corpse. I don't even think the couple in front of me buying diapers, milk and leggings even notice she hasn't blinked at all. Probably safe to bring it down to register 12, this girl with the gold chains and tear drop face tattoo seem to have it together. Should I be surprised that I don't get a "hello?" She could have at least axed me if I found everything ok. To which I would have held up my bag of Jack Links and replied, "What do you think?" Maybe it's best not to engage her in any type of conversation, just scan my teriyaki beef jerky and let me get the hell out of here. Just when I think I'm in the clear, I have one last barrier to pass...there's a guy who needs to check my bag (it has one thing in it), to make sure I don't have a 55 inch plasma stuffed inside of it. Totally understandable. But for real, please let me go home, so I can shower, and then come back here never.

FYI - Target opens at 8am. This kind of shit doesn't happen there.  

Peace out, homies.