mrs. white goes to wal-mart

In case you haven't heard, I hate Wal-Mart. Passionately, even.

I won't bore you with my long list of whys, especially since they're well-documented and you've probably heard them all before anyway. Furthermore, I certainly understand that a large segment of the population shops there regularly, placing me solidly in the consumer minority. However, let it be known that due to my philosophical objections, the fact that my local Wal-Mart was the epitome of hopelessness and grime, and also because I have several other, nicer options and can afford those options, I simply do not shop at Wal-Mart.

Ever.

Never.

Except today.

You see, I'm in the market for a moderately expensive gift for my husband's impending birthday and needed to do some comparison pricing. A new Wal-Mart (the very one that resulted in my city being labeled racist and thrust into the national spotlight) finally had its grand opening, and so I thought, "Heck. Why not? I'm certainly not racist, and perhaps the new store is better!"

After spending no more than fifteen minutes on store property, I:

• exited my car and was immediately accosted by a rather dirty, rather skeeery man who demanded I give him my spare change so he can purchase gasoline,
• traversed the parking lot where I passed a sobbing, forty-something-year-old toothless woman with a garbage bag flung over her shoulder and a long cigarette dangling limply from her gums,
  
• was leered at, winked at, and wildly gesticulated at by a former convict, a future convict and an escaped convict, respectively,*
• stopped to appraise a display of Apple Bottom jeans, and momentarily had myself convinced that I should buy a pair because to do so would make perfect, perfect sense,
  
• and finally, nearly stepped in a puddle of what I can only presume to be liquefied human despair.

So, yes - this new store is actually quite a bit nicer than the one it replaced. It's cleaner, neater, and smells significantly better, too. In fact, I might just put my stubborn resolve aside and make my moderately expensive purchase there after all (all the while being mindful of wildly gesticulating men, Apple Bottom displays and pools of despair, of course). It all depends on what price I decide to put on my morals/hygiene, I suppose...

* Do I actually know that these men are past, present or future convicts? Course not. But that's who they are in my head, and what's in my head is all that really matters to me, silly!