13 | June | 2013 | The True Bob Files

I don’t mind shopping if it’s just me in the store. But, since I live on a planet with billions of people – more than half of them obnoxious, self-centered and having an overwhelming sense of entitlement – that doesn’t happen. Even at 3 in the morning it doesn’t happen. Maybe there are places where it’s different. I wish I knew where one of them was so that I could live there.

I hate the Wal Mart where I shop. Sure, I could go somewhere else, but I’d probably hate it too. I guess I should be fair. It’s not the actually store that I hate/despise/loathe. It’s the other humans that shop there.

Wal Mart is a store. It’s not a vacation destination. It’s not a playground. It’s not a racetrack. It’s not the setting for a dysfunctional Lifetime movie. It’s a store. You buy your shit in an orderly manner and leave. You must be prepared. You don’t amble aimlessly like it’s a Night of the Living Dead zombie movie. You don’t stand around in the middle of the frickin’ aisles, in a state of self-hypnosis, staring at the pop tarts.

Whenever I am in Wal Mart, I spend half of my time avoiding other people.

“I need potato chips. Oh wait, there are other people in the aisle and they look stupid. If I go that way they will either hit me with their cart or ask me if I work there. Their child will stare at me or start asking me dumb gibberish questions. I must go elsewhere and wait for them to leave.”

I suppose that I am a horrid human being for not having the patience to deal with them. But, if there is one thing that I am, it’s a Wal Mart psychic. I know what shit is going to go down and when.

I know that the lady with the big plastic car cart is going to run me over. Why do they have those? Just put your kid in the regular wire seat that has the two square slots for their legs. Oh wait, you can’t. That’s where you put your eggs. Sorry.

I know that the aisle with the soda is going to have a ton of boxes and crates of soda blocking the way. I know that the stock person will be stocking stuff right in the exact spot where the stuff I want is.

I know what no one will shop in a straight line. It will be in a haphazard – ‘hey look at me, I’m doing an unpredictable serpentine skating movement in the Ice Capades; and I will do it from the time I get out of my car in the parking lot until the time I dangerously drive away’ – way.

I know that the person in front of me at the checkout will not know how to use the credit/debit machine. They will slide their card the wrong way. They will say the machine is broken. They will stare at it like it’s an alien. They will be really old (even older than me and I’m old). They will take forever to put their bags in the cart. If they write a check, they will be one of those slow writers. They will take forever to put all of their crap back in their purse or wallet. They will hold the receipt in their hand wondering what to do with it. Then they will say, “Oh wait, I have coupons”. Then they will take forever to dig all of them out of their purse. They will stare at each one for five minutes. They will hand them to the cashier and go, “Did I buy any of this stuff”? They will never leave.

I know that the person behind me will start complaining about everything.
This line is too slow. They need more cashiers. I am in a hurry. This is awful. blahbiddy blahbiddy blah.
They will start trying to talk to me. I will pretend I don’t speak English.

Throughout the shopping ~~nightmare~~ experience, there will be at least another one hundred instances of annoyance. I will survive them all.

On a bright note, however, they do have those sensors on the display cases in the frozen food aisle. As you walk down the aisle each case lights up as you approach it. I like to walk down that aisle and pretend I am telekinetic.