Saturday, October 6, 2012

Dear Woman at Wal-Mart

I only wanted one card.  Just one fucking birthday card I had hoped to pick up real quick before a party.  I expected the usual bullshit – the classy line of customers that typically takes over the floors of this mega-store.  Folks are stopped in the middle of aisles with their carts full of purple soda pop and lowest ply bulk toilet paper.  They stand there talking about their cats and their kids like they’re at a social event when I just need to get two items and get the fuck out. 

“Well, Missy just got her third underage drinking ticket.  I told that girl Imma kick her ass out of the trailer if she can’t straighten up.”

“Now, which one is Missy?  Is that Billy’s baby or Ricky’s baby?  Why don’t she just move in with her daddy?” 

“I don’t know who her daddy is, Rachel Lee.”
And then there’s me, “Excuse me.  I just … I just need to grab this shampoo.”  Fuck; I hate this store. And yes, I am definitely judging those people.  If you don’t know this by now, you are clearly new to this blog. Welcome.  If you are offended, please remove the stick from your ass.

So, like I said, I expected those kinds of women – nothing new there.  I was, however, freshly irritated when I got stuck behind the elderly man in the hover-round with a case of Milwaukee’s Best in the attached wire cart.  Do you need that motorized machine because you’re disabled or you’re drunk?  Fuck, people.  Get out of my way old man.  I have a party to get to and I just need one card. 

At last, I made it to the card aisle.  I didn’t like any of the cards in the first section.  None of them said what I needed to say: “Happy Birthday.  I love you because you’re a bitch like me.  Now let’s get shitfaced and find some ass together.  I promise not to let you fuck anyone ugly tonight because I like you, my dear friend.”  

So, I turned the corner.  And there you were.  Holy fucking shit – there you were.  You were probably the same height as me – maybe even a little shorter.  I would have guessed somewhere between five foot and five foot three.  However, you easily had one hundred or more pounds on me, and you had no qualms over showing off that bountiful flesh.  You had on a tank top that I am assuming was formerly white, but now yellowed and stained.   The tank top rested just above your protruding muffin top – lots and lots of muffin top.  There really has to be a different term for what you had – soufflé skin or something.  I don’t know, but it wasn’t pretty.  I wanted to gouge my own eyes out with a fork, but it probably would have taken me another twenty minutes to make it to the kitchen section of the store.

You were wearing cut-off sweat pants.  They were frayed at the edges and barely covered your bulbous ass that threatened to approach me as I stood frozen and appalled in the aisle.  I could smell cigarettes, and first assumed the odor was attached to your “designer” clothing.  But then I looked at your hand to see that you were actually standing there smoking a cigarette right in the middle of Wal-Mart.  But that’s not even the best part because you were also barefoot.

So, I never even bought that card.  I turned the fuck around and hauled ass out of Wal-Mart.  I didn’t return to that store for six whole years.  Yet, your image remains forever etched in my head.  You are everything that is wrong with America.  Therefore, I expect to see you again soon when I turn on the television to find you now have your own reality show. 
You can check out more of the fine "People of Wal-Mart" here:
I am not the only judgmental asshole out there.  Don't even try to tell me you've never judged. 


  1. this is why I don't shop at walmart. Thanks for making me laugh!

  2. I try not to shop there, but there's limited options around here. When I lived in bigger cities, I always chose Target.

  3. Found you thanks to Whoa! Susannah. I love your blog and I'm your newest member. I think you're a gifted writer with a great sense of humor. I look forward to enjoying more of your writing. I hope you'll visit me sometime at Chubby Chatterbox. Take care.

    Chubby Chatterbox

  4. Absolutely outstanding, but without WalMart, where would we get all our material?

  5. lol...i am laughing so hard i am crying right now...thank goodness you can say all the things we want to, but can'

  6. hey I like the way u write. dont worry about my grammatical errors lol just using less characters. I believe u. that's all I'm going to say. but I couldn't help but to notice how well u write. I searched for 'dmx talks about the illuminati' and that's how I stumbled on your Web page. I was preparing myself for a boring read thinking at least there will be some Intel my curiosity could feed on at 6am. Yes.... 6am. theres no stopping me when I have a question the people around me can't answer. why is it always that the people around u can't be honestly opinionated or at least open to ideas. if neither... why do they just stare at u and shrug when u begin to topic the illuminati conspiracy and the signs. thank God from the Bible I rarely watch TV or listen to American music. no offence but I believe that America is the present times Babylon city. I know America ain't a city zzz it's an example. fine. America is the Babylon country. ANYWAAAAAAY

    The main reason why I'm even commenting. wow, that took forever. to be honest I just wanted to ask you a question completely unrelated.

    I read using an app called wattpad. please search it and download it to try it. as I was reading through your thoughts and experience, I couldn't help but to notice that you made reading your blog fun. wattpad is an app that allows for people to write books for everyone to read. and people will read as you write. kind of like watching a series and waiting for the next episode. but yeah, please consider writing a book for everyone to read. I really like the way you write. Bahahaha that's wasn't a pickup line. anyway I hope to read something of yours in the future sometime.