Why I hate Wal-Mart.

Yeah, it is a long read, but it is funny as hell. Someone posted this on another forum I moderate at. I laughed for a good while after reading it, well, because it is sadly true. Well, here it goes:


Anyone that has been around me for very long knows how much I hate Wal-Mart. Simply put, it is the antichrist of stores. Whenever I come within 3 miles of one I feel bile start to form in my throat. In short, I ****ing hate Wal-Mart. PERIOD. But as Irony seems to play such a pivotal role in my life, it does not surprise me that Wal-Mart just happens to be the only store around that has every thing I need. When I need paper towels, I go to Wal-Mart. When I need pencils, I go to Wal-Mart. When I need sharp objects to gouge my eyes out after watching the latest offering from MTV, you guessed it. I go to Wal-Mart. So why do I hate it so much? Simple. It is IMPOSSIBLE to do ANYTHING efficiently in a Wal-Mart store. Now I'm not a person that's in a very big hurry. In fact I'm very laid back. But when I have to wait in line for FORTY MINUTES to purchase a roll of toilet paper, you're damn right I'm gonna get impatient. Add to the fact that some woman with around sixteen kids crying and screaming is usually standing in back of me, and some guy in front of me usually has found a shirt that has been beamed directly from an alternate universe as some practical joke on the cashier so she can't ring it up. Which causes what little amount of functioning brain is left in her to panic and fall down crying until the head cashier comes over and reassures her that her life is not a total and complete waste.


Another thing, Wal-Mart seems to have been designed by a Chia pet, cause I still can't figure the damn thing out. I've been going to Wal-Mart for 10 years now, and I'm still bewildered by their product placement. Here's a quick example. I go into Wal-Mart to purchase three things:

1:Paper Towels
2:Paper Plates
3:Paper Cups

Now, any normal human being looking at that would think that those three items would be relatively close to each other. Well my friend, you couldn't be more ****ing wrong. I go in to get the paper towels, which are in the back of the grocery section with the other paper products. Okay, not so bad so far. Now for the paper plates. Upon further inspection, the paper plates are nowhere to be seen. Time to ask the braindead clerk where they are. Now approaching a sales clerk is hard enough by itself. Usually these people have been dealing with the most hideous examples of humanity all day long, and when they see you approaching, they usually will try and get away from you as fast as possible. After I finally wrestle one to the floor and threaten to kill his family he tells me the paper plates have been moved to the holiday section, which is on the other side of the store.

This is enough to make me contemplate suicide in itself. Not for how far away it is, just that when I go to Wal-Mart, I generally want to concentrate on one part of the store. If I need groceries, I stay in the groceries. If I happen to think that I need to buy a place mat or something that would require me to go elsewhere in the store, **** that. No way. I'll save it for my next trip. This is because getting from point A to point B in a Wal-Mart is like trying to get from one end of a disease infested swamp to the other side. With several mountains thrown in between for good measure.

So, I trekked all the way across that damn store to get to the Halloween section, which looked as if it had been struck by an ancient Greek God on some rampage of death and destruction. Hurtling over small children and throwing sales clerks out of my way I manage to grab some paper plates. Two down, one to go. Next up are paper cups, which for some reason I assumed would be with the paper plates. Silly me. Now actually contemplating murder, I wrestle down another salesclerk who informs me that no, the paper cups are not here. They had already moved them to an island (those square things in between aisles that have products formed in an attractive way as to see what dumbass can ram their cart into it first) around the beauty supplies. MOTHER ****ER!

Now not only do I have to go BACK across the store, I have to go by the most feared place in Wal-Mart, the beauty section. This is where all the women in the store herd to spray themselves with enough fowl smelling chemicals to make even the most hardened man break down and start weeping uncontrollably. Also, any man that wanders around 30 feet of it will smell like Blueberry Passion Perfume for the rest of his life.

I spot the paper cups from afar, and wonder if it's really worth it. **** it. I've come this far, might as well get the damn cups. So I walk up casually to the island, trying not to start crying, and avoiding the acid rain that all the perfume chemicals have formed by mixing themselves together in the upper part of the store. As I get close, the bane of my existence on Earth dashes out of the shadows and lunges at me like some Tiger who hasn't eaten for three weeks. It's the free sample lady, and that bitch is out for blood. Holding a perfume bottle in her hand and coming straight towards me. I think about taking out one of her knees with my shopping cart and running for my life. After all, she's only 81, how fast can she run anyway? Unfortunately my pause for deciding what action to take has allowed her enough time to sneak up on me and hit me with her spiel:

"Hello young man, don't you think this would be a perfect gift for someone special in your life?"

Oh ****. I try to speak, but I'm to frightened. It's too late. She sprays enough of that ****ing perfume on me to last me the rest of my life. She walks away, contempt that she has done her job by putting one less man out of his misery. I take the cups, put the razor blade away, and head for the check out lines.

Let me ask you this. What good does it do you to put 65 individual check out lanes in your store if you only plan to have 4 of them open? Each of them run by some lady who just started and is more than likely to be breast feeding her child at the same time. Approximately the entire nation of Cuba is standing in each line. All I can do is wait.

Once you finally reach the cashier, it's time to play Russian Roulette. Except this is much worse than real Russian Roulette. At least in the real version the worst possible thing that can happen is that you die right? You'll not get so lucky at the Wal-Mart version though. Here's how you play:

1. Casheir scans most of your items. The ones that fall on the floor, or break or are smashed by her children, you do not get. You COULD ask for another one, but then you'd have to walk to get another one, which is already a fate far worse than death.

2. Casheir gives you the incorrect amount of money that you owe. This is because she accidentally scanned the box of Fruit Loops 76 times along with the rest of your groceries.

3. You give cashier check/credit card/cash to pay.

4. If the cashier successfully rings you up, you win.

If however the cashier decides that she REALLY likes you, she'll totally forget how to take money. For some reason, the cash register has stopped taking any money at all. She informs you that you'll have to wait until her supervisor is available before she can do anything. At this point you have lost. All that is left for you to do is lay down on the floor in the fetal position and pray for some kid to kick you in the head hard enough to knock you unconscious. This is because you'll die of old age before you'll ever have a chance to get out now.

So now you may have an idea as to why I hate Wal-Mart so much. If not, I'm sure there's a Wal-Mart near you. All you need to do to experience the unbridled joy of shopping at Wal-Mart is throw your family in the car and a small fire arm and head on down. Don't forget to say hi to me, I'll be standing in line!

Let me ask you this. What good does it do you to put 65 individual check out lanes in your store if you only plan to have 4 of them open? Each of them run by some lady who just started and is more than likely to be breast feeding her child at the same time. Approximately the entire nation of Cuba is standing in each line. All I can do is wait.

Oh! The humanity! This is so true.

OMG dude, if you put that in paperback fomr I'd buy it, that is THE single funniest thing I've read on here. You are a literary genius.

:hehehe: that is so true.....

God Bless Walmarts with "Self-scan" check out!!!

Not to mention that I only go to Walmart after about 11pm unless absolutely necessary. ;) Tangie has it ALL worked out. :p

I try to avoid Wal mart as much as possible. They finally opened one in the hood. Yes a Wal Mart in South Central:rolleyes: It will become Ghetto in a couple of years. The Little Wal mart Smiley dude will have a Blunt in his mouth:smoker: I say it will become Ghetto because our Wal Mart over here sells Bar-B-cue and Fried Chicken in it already and it's only been open for like a month:rolleyes:

Roflmao....funniest stuff I've read for a long time now....:hehehe: :hehehe: :hehehe:

my wal mart is pretty good, all the items u needed at my walmart are literaly on the same isle! hahahahaha im glad im not you

so true. for the best wal-mart experience 2 am. and its still full

:lol2::hehe:

Very good Poly !

I nearly spit coffee on my monitor at work lmao.

Originally posted by Polygon
Yeah, it is a long read, but it is funny as hell. Someone posted this on another forum I moderate at. I laughed for a good while after reading it, well, because it is sadly true. Well, here it goes:


Anyone that has been around me for very long knows how much I hate Wal-Mart. Simply put, it is the antichrist of stores. Whenever I come within 3 miles of one I feel bile start to form in my throat. In short, I ****ing hate Wal-Mart. PERIOD. But as Irony seems to play such a pivotal role in my life, it does not surprise me that Wal-Mart just happens to be the only store around that has every thing I need. When I need paper towels, I go to Wal-Mart. When I need pencils, I go to Wal-Mart. When I need sharp objects to gouge my eyes out after watching the latest offering from MTV, you guessed it. I go to Wal-Mart. So why do I hate it so much? Simple. It is IMPOSSIBLE to do ANYTHING efficiently in a Wal-Mart store. Now I'm not a person that's in a very big hurry. In fact I'm very laid back. But when I have to wait in line for FORTY MINUTES to purchase a roll of toilet paper, you're damn right I'm gonna get impatient. Add to the fact that some woman with around sixteen kids crying and screaming is usually standing in back of me, and some guy in front of me usually has found a shirt that has been beamed directly from an alternate universe as some practical joke on the cashier so she can't ring it up. Which causes what little amount of functioning brain is left in her to panic and fall down crying until the head cashier comes over and reassures her that her life is not a total and complete waste.


Another thing, Wal-Mart seems to have been designed by a Chia pet, cause I still can't figure the damn thing out. I've been going to Wal-Mart for 10 years now, and I'm still bewildered by their product placement. Here's a quick example. I go into Wal-Mart to purchase three things:

1:Paper Towels
2:Paper Plates
3:Paper Cups

Now, any normal human being looking at that would think that those three items would be relatively close to each other. Well my friend, you couldn't be more ****ing wrong. I go in to get the paper towels, which are in the back of the grocery section with the other paper products. Okay, not so bad so far. Now for the paper plates. Upon further inspection, the paper plates are nowhere to be seen. Time to ask the braindead clerk where they are. Now approaching a sales clerk is hard enough by itself. Usually these people have been dealing with the most hideous examples of humanity all day long, and when they see you approaching, they usually will try and get away from you as fast as possible. After I finally wrestle one to the floor and threaten to kill his family he tells me the paper plates have been moved to the holiday section, which is on the other side of the store.

This is enough to make me contemplate suicide in itself. Not for how far away it is, just that when I go to Wal-Mart, I generally want to concentrate on one part of the store. If I need groceries, I stay in the groceries. If I happen to think that I need to buy a place mat or something that would require me to go elsewhere in the store, **** that. No way. I'll save it for my next trip. This is because getting from point A to point B in a Wal-Mart is like trying to get from one end of a disease infested swamp to the other side. With several mountains thrown in between for good measure.

So, I trekked all the way across that damn store to get to the Halloween section, which looked as if it had been struck by an ancient Greek God on some rampage of death and destruction. Hurtling over small children and throwing sales clerks out of my way I manage to grab some paper plates. Two down, one to go. Next up are paper cups, which for some reason I assumed would be with the paper plates. Silly me. Now actually contemplating murder, I wrestle down another salesclerk who informs me that no, the paper cups are not here. They had already moved them to an island (those square things in between aisles that have products formed in an attractive way as to see what dumbass can ram their cart into it first) around the beauty supplies. MOTHER ****ER!

Now not only do I have to go BACK across the store, I have to go by the most feared place in Wal-Mart, the beauty section. This is where all the women in the store herd to spray themselves with enough fowl smelling chemicals to make even the most hardened man break down and start weeping uncontrollably. Also, any man that wanders around 30 feet of it will smell like Blueberry Passion Perfume for the rest of his life.

I spot the paper cups from afar, and wonder if it's really worth it. **** it. I've come this far, might as well get the damn cups. So I walk up casually to the island, trying not to start crying, and avoiding the acid rain that all the perfume chemicals have formed by mixing themselves together in the upper part of the store. As I get close, the bane of my existence on Earth dashes out of the shadows and lunges at me like some Tiger who hasn't eaten for three weeks. It's the free sample lady, and that bitch is out for blood. Holding a perfume bottle in her hand and coming straight towards me. I think about taking out one of her knees with my shopping cart and running for my life. After all, she's only 81, how fast can she run anyway? Unfortunately my pause for deciding what action to take has allowed her enough time to sneak up on me and hit me with her spiel:

"Hello young man, don't you think this would be a perfect gift for someone special in your life?"

Oh ****. I try to speak, but I'm to frightened. It's too late. She sprays enough of that ****ing perfume on me to last me the rest of my life. She walks away, contempt that she has done her job by putting one less man out of his misery. I take the cups, put the razor blade away, and head for the check out lines.

Let me ask you this. What good does it do you to put 65 individual check out lanes in your store if you only plan to have 4 of them open? Each of them run by some lady who just started and is more than likely to be breast feeding her child at the same time. Approximately the entire nation of Cuba is standing in each line. All I can do is wait.

Once you finally reach the cashier, it's time to play Russian Roulette. Except this is much worse than real Russian Roulette. At least in the real version the worst possible thing that can happen is that you die right? You'll not get so lucky at the Wal-Mart version though. Here's how you play:

1. Casheir scans most of your items. The ones that fall on the floor, or break or are smashed by her children, you do not get. You COULD ask for another one, but then you'd have to walk to get another one, which is already a fate far worse than death.

2. Casheir gives you the incorrect amount of money that you owe. This is because she accidentally scanned the box of Fruit Loops 76 times along with the rest of your groceries.

3. You give cashier check/credit card/cash to pay.

4. If the cashier successfully rings you up, you win.

If however the cashier decides that she REALLY likes you, she'll totally forget how to take money. For some reason, the cash register has stopped taking any money at all. She informs you that you'll have to wait until her supervisor is available before she can do anything. At this point you have lost. All that is left for you to do is lay down on the floor in the fetal position and pray for some kid to kick you in the head hard enough to knock you unconscious. This is because you'll die of old age before you'll ever have a chance to get out now.

So now you may have an idea as to why I hate Wal-Mart so much. If not, I'm sure there's a Wal-Mart near you. All you need to do to experience the unbridled joy of shopping at Wal-Mart is throw your family in the car and a small fire arm and head on down. Don't forget to say hi to me, I'll be standing in line!


Polygon, you have no Idea how much I understand. If I had my druthers I would simply by myself a store and have a little golfcart to toodle around in for all the things I need. Dont worry my friend. I fell your pain.

That was funny as Hell !!!:spit: :spit: :spit:

Scary thing is...every bit of that's true...:grey:

the paper plates,cups and napkins are all in the same aisle at the wal-mart i work at. yes i work at walmart i have for almost 2 years the money is good and i don't care what you think about it. oh yeah and the islands in the middle of the aisle are called stackbases.

:D WERD.

I still remember when I needed to buy a backpack, because I was going on vacation and I needed something to store my 'car stuff' in. That's the food, toys, books, etc. that you keep up in the front of the car instead of throwing in the trunk with your clothes luggage.

I spent about 3 hours looking at backpacks, mainly because there were 4 different sections of backpacks, 1 in men's apparel (west side of store), 1 in school supplies (north-east side of store), 1 in women's purses (dead center of store), and one over in toys (south-east side of store).

I would run to one section of backpacks, look at all 300 available models, and find one I liked, but in the wrong color. So then I'd have to check the other 3 backpack sections to see if they had that model in that color. They wouldn't. But then I'd find another one I liked, but it was rumpled or sewn funny or something, so I'd have to check the other 3 backpack locations again...:bloated: ...

Give me Target any day. Cheaper clearance, better merchandise, less white-trash walking around, fewer polygamists, better acoustics...and once, when I had to wait 5 minutes for a register (the only time I've had to wait) they gave every single person waiting a coupon for $3 off their entire purchase!! I love Target!! If only they were open 24 hours..

Originally posted by boingo82
I would run to one section of backpacks, look at all 300 available models, and find one I liked, but in the wrong color. So then I'd have to check the other 3 backpack sections to see if they had that model in that color. They wouldn't. But then I'd find another one I liked, but it was rumpled or sewn funny or something, so I'd have to check the other 3 backpack locations again...:bloated: ...


That's very obsessive compulsive of you Boingo. LOL

I agree Target roxxors compared to WalFart. And when you say Target, you should pronounce it "Tar-shay" like it's a high-class french boutique.

Originally posted by boingo82


I would run to one section of backpacks, look at all 300 available models, and find one I liked, but in the wrong color. So then I'd have to check the other 3 backpack sections to see if they had that model in that color. They wouldn't. But then I'd find another one I liked, but it was rumpled or sewn funny or something, so I'd have to check the other 3 backpack locations again...:bloated: ...



women :rolleyes: :finger: j/k

Originally posted by ci5ic
..you should pronounce it "Tar-shay" like it's a high-class french boutique.

I do actually. Most people think I shop somewhere expensive. :p

I spend approx $10 / week at the least at walmart cause I have lunch at sams club (costco version of walmart) every day. But I will agree that I would rather go to target over the walmart here .... place is SOO fucking depressing.

You know ive never seen a sales person at walmart smile the way they do in the commercials. No one's laughing. They all kind of trudge around.

Have you guys ever seen the Wal-Mart commercials? How lame they are.:rolleyes: Like the latest one with the woodcarver dad and his son not being able to reach his "Mastership" in woodcarving:confused: WTF, I guess.