One of the nice things about living within the NYC city limits is the notable lack of Wal-Marts.
This means a drastic decline in the volume of white trash breathing my air and having barbecues in the parking lot. The latter reason stems from the fact that NYC outlawed parking lots in the 16th century.
Despite what you may have heard, the only downside to a Wal-Mart-less life is the limited access to jumbo packs of crazy straws for 99 cents, or 42 oz. of shampoo for $1.57.
Back home, however, The Beast and Hal can barely drive 10 minutes without seeing two of Sam Walton's infamous inventions.
While I was visiting them back in mid-August it reminded me of a particularly humorous activity from my pre-NYC years: Anytime I happened to enter a Wal-Mart after coming home from work or attending a meeting (and this was not a terribly regular occurrence), I would always be swarmed with questions.
It is no stretch of the imagination to say that if you walk into a Wal-Mart dressed like a professional (i.e. shirt and tie) you and the manager will be the only two people who do so all day.
Rarely was I in the store more than three minutes before someone came up and asked where some item was located.
"Where are the light bulbs?" they would ask. My answer: Aisle seven.
As I turned the next corner in search of my own items, I was approached again about eggs. "Aisle seven."
On one such occasion, and entirely by accident, I was at one of these stores during its grand opening.
For the entire 45 minutes I was there I answered a non-stop stream of questions.
Where are the batteries? Aisle seven.
Where is the toilet paper? Aisle seven, next to the batteries.
Where are the Power Rangers? Ummm, aisle fiv…seven.
There's a "bargain" store opening near my building later this week, and I am barely restraining the urge to throw on a fresh-pressed pair of slacks, my favorite tie and walk amidst the rows of neatly arranged goods.
If any of you out on the Intraweb want to come with me and enjoy some free samples that’d be great.
Meet me on aisle seven.
Subscribe to:
Post Comments (Atom)
No comments:
Post a Comment