Earlier this week marked my sixth anti-Wal-Mart a-versary. Which means it’s time to buy myself candy (done) and iron (double done), which are the official gifts of six faithful years.
Probably a card, too, on account of me being so happy with the status.
Ever since shopping that-which-shall-not-be-named in July of 2008 – and having the absolute worst experience of my life – I vowed off of them forever.
There’s been a handful of times where I’ve neared the premises with others, usually waiting in the car like some sort of brat. But zero patronage has come from my bank account. In fact, if I actually do enter their doors, I’m sure to use the bathroom out of spite. A flush/hand washing probably costs them all of $.002, but it makes me feel better. Which is really what counts.
The boycott didn’t start off as political; I was just tired of their crap. There was never any parking and cars always almost ran one another over. Kids screamed through the store. And handed me eyeliners that were left in the checkout line after being reprimanded by their older brother that, “It’s for girls!”
A solid 10-minute wait later and I was donzo.
Why “Wally World” is the Worst
In the years since I’ve become to hate the brand on a deeper level. They’re the hugest of monopolies and have made a business out of stopping on the little guy. While simultaneously selling to them. I AM the little guy, you phobes. They’re also notoriously crappy to their employees, while alternatives, like Target (the best store in the world) offer ample benefits.
There’s way more to it than that, and let’s be honest, I’m not willing to sit down the research. Because what is the point? I’m not going to get in a fact-off, just state my partially informed hatred and move along with life.
That is, until Wal-Mart gets wind of this post and has me killed off in a freak accident. Like a rogue tractor whose brakes “suddenly stopped working” or a bullet to the dome.
Sometimes when I explain my stance, I get some backlash. Like, most of the time. And because people are bad at being alive, they have absolutely NO idea where I shop. Even though there are thousands of alternatives, such as Dollar Tree and Target, Walgreens, Ace, Dillons, local mom and pops, or wherever the hell else I feel like shopping that isn’t a dollar-syphoning mogul.
Does it sometimes require an extra stop? Yeah. But I’m not into getting my tires changed while I buy groceries, so it’s all good. Also I don’t mind driving from place to place – how else am I going to see what new restaurant popped up over night?
Even if it meant an extra hour of driving each time I shopped, I still wouldn’t shop at dub-mart. I hate them that much.
Until next time, Wal-Mart … which is never.