Forgive Me Society, For I Have Sinned
Tonight is exactly one week since I last went to Walmart.
Last Friday night my friend called to say that she wanted to hang out with me, but needed to pick something up for her husband and did I want to keep her company. It would mean going to Walmart. She was quick to tell me that it was the only place she could get what he needed, and it was for the following early morning. I'm always more than happy to run errands with people - I care far more about the people I'm spending time with than the activity I'm doing with them.
So I sold my soul to the devil and off we went. I hadn't been in a Walmart since I lived in Florida. There had been one down the block from me, right across the street from Target. My boycotting Walmart started off slowly.
It was easier to park at Target.
Target had a better card selection.
It was easier to find Target employees who could help than Walmart employees who could.
It wasn't overwhelmingly huge.
After two or three trips to Walmart I stopped going there altogether. I started reading about the lack of benefits Walmart employees were getting, among other things. How lucky to have Target right across the street, making my decision so easy! But then Target stopped carrying the boxes I was always buying. So I crossed the street. But just to buy the boxes. Nothing else. Then I'd go to Target for the packing tape and cards. When I moved to San Francisco it was simple to avoid Walmart. There are none in the city. Of course, there's also no Target in the city either.
So last Friday night when I was welcomed to Walmart, it had been almost two years since I'd been in one. It was huge. Not in a "look at all the possibilities! look how convenient it would be to come here and get everything I might need, from food shopping to banking to pliers to a dresser to a football!" More in a "It's huge, I'm overwhelmed and want to leave and it's going to be a bitch finding what we need and is it me or does everything feel cheap here?" kind of way.
My friend needed a specific type of fishing license. She'd called ahead of time and was told:
A. Walmart would be open until 11 p.m.
B. The specific Walmart we were going to would have what she needed.
We found the department we needed. It was empty. We couldn't find any Walmart employees. My friend made herself at home by helping herself to the paging system, and repeatedly paged someone to the desk we were waiting at. I started wandering around, looking for a Walmart employee who could help us.
"Excuse me, do you know if anyone is manning that desk?"
"We're closing." Not for an hour you're not.
"I know, but we'll be quick if we could just get some help."
"I don't work in that department."
"Could you find someone who does? We need a fishing license."
"Excuse me, could you help us at the Sports and Fitness Department?"
"Huh?"
"My friend and I need help. Would you help us please?"
"Oh, I no speak English."
"Oh. Could you find someone who does?"
"Sorry" and she just wandered off.
For the locals who are wondering, we were in Oakland. I tried again with another guy wearing a blue vest.
"Excuse me, could you help me? My friend is trying to get a fishing license."
"A what now?"
"A fishing license. At the sporting desk?"
"I don't do that. I clean the store. But I'll see if I can find someone."
"Thank you!"
"If you haven't been helped by the next time I come around, I'll page someone for you."
"Thanks so much."
I found a woman in a blue vest next. She was very peppy in what I can only describe as a tweaky way. My friend, who knows such things after her time in Vegas, later told me that woman had meth mouth. I didn't care what kind of mouth she had; she was finally helping us. There were no fishing licenses behind the counter. We had to go up front. We had to wait in a line that didn't move. A cute baby on a tricycle ran over my foot. I looked around and saw no adult looking like they'd lost a kid. A little fat boy pushed me out of his way to get to the impulse candy. We continued waiting in line.
Finally a manager came over and after a few discussions it was established that while Walmart could sell us the fishing license, they didn't have the stamps that my friend's husband also needed. The manager suggested we go to some other Walmart a few exits away. We were not pleased. We asked if she could call the other Walmart and confirm they had what we needed. She said she would, walked away, and came back with the phone number for the other Walmart. We finally stepped out of The Line That Never Moved, after a solid 20 minutes of waiting in it. I called the other Walmart from the first Walmart. I got hung up on. Called back. Got put on hold indefinitely. Called back. Got a live person, asked to speak with a manager, got told they were all in a meeting. Explained what I needed, got put on indefinite hold again. Called back, told them I was calling from the other Walmart.
"Are you a Walmart Associate?"
"Yes I am, and we have a customer here who needs a fishing license."
At this point I wasn't even listening to the excuses anymore. I had run out of patience. The Walmart we were standing in was closing.
My friend and I went back to the nice manager, she turned on her Southern charm, and told Nice Manager we couldn't confirm whether the 24-hour Walmart she'd referred us to had the fishing license. My friend apologized to me multiple times. She drew me a rainbow and a unicorn to help pass the time. The manager picked up the phone and called the other Walmart for us, while she helped some dad of a skater boy with his DVD issue. I looked at Skater Boy and very quietly whispered to my friend that it looked like he'd had a nasty skating accident, judging by the scab on his elbow. Literally the second the words left my mouth, his hand wandered up to touch his elbow. He could not have heard me. Even a dog wouldn't have been able to hear me. Skater Boy's skater friend was twirling around on a chair while throwing a ball.
I was so bored and so tired of standing around. The manager who'd taken up our cause was on indefinite hold. She yelled at Meth Mouth to walk the store and get customers to stop shopping and go check out. She continued helping Skater Boy's dad. Finally she told us the other Walmart had lost all their fishing licenses. My friend borrowed my cell phone to call her husband and see what he wanted. Get the license without the stamps. So we did.
Hopefully I won't be back to Walmart in another two years.
Last Friday night my friend called to say that she wanted to hang out with me, but needed to pick something up for her husband and did I want to keep her company. It would mean going to Walmart. She was quick to tell me that it was the only place she could get what he needed, and it was for the following early morning. I'm always more than happy to run errands with people - I care far more about the people I'm spending time with than the activity I'm doing with them.
So I sold my soul to the devil and off we went. I hadn't been in a Walmart since I lived in Florida. There had been one down the block from me, right across the street from Target. My boycotting Walmart started off slowly.
It was easier to park at Target.
Target had a better card selection.
It was easier to find Target employees who could help than Walmart employees who could.
It wasn't overwhelmingly huge.
After two or three trips to Walmart I stopped going there altogether. I started reading about the lack of benefits Walmart employees were getting, among other things. How lucky to have Target right across the street, making my decision so easy! But then Target stopped carrying the boxes I was always buying. So I crossed the street. But just to buy the boxes. Nothing else. Then I'd go to Target for the packing tape and cards. When I moved to San Francisco it was simple to avoid Walmart. There are none in the city. Of course, there's also no Target in the city either.
So last Friday night when I was welcomed to Walmart, it had been almost two years since I'd been in one. It was huge. Not in a "look at all the possibilities! look how convenient it would be to come here and get everything I might need, from food shopping to banking to pliers to a dresser to a football!" More in a "It's huge, I'm overwhelmed and want to leave and it's going to be a bitch finding what we need and is it me or does everything feel cheap here?" kind of way.
My friend needed a specific type of fishing license. She'd called ahead of time and was told:
A. Walmart would be open until 11 p.m.
B. The specific Walmart we were going to would have what she needed.
We found the department we needed. It was empty. We couldn't find any Walmart employees. My friend made herself at home by helping herself to the paging system, and repeatedly paged someone to the desk we were waiting at. I started wandering around, looking for a Walmart employee who could help us.
"Excuse me, do you know if anyone is manning that desk?"
"We're closing." Not for an hour you're not.
"I know, but we'll be quick if we could just get some help."
"I don't work in that department."
"Could you find someone who does? We need a fishing license."
"Excuse me, could you help us at the Sports and Fitness Department?"
"Huh?"
"My friend and I need help. Would you help us please?"
"Oh, I no speak English."
"Oh. Could you find someone who does?"
"Sorry" and she just wandered off.
For the locals who are wondering, we were in Oakland. I tried again with another guy wearing a blue vest.
"Excuse me, could you help me? My friend is trying to get a fishing license."
"A what now?"
"A fishing license. At the sporting desk?"
"I don't do that. I clean the store. But I'll see if I can find someone."
"Thank you!"
"If you haven't been helped by the next time I come around, I'll page someone for you."
"Thanks so much."
I found a woman in a blue vest next. She was very peppy in what I can only describe as a tweaky way. My friend, who knows such things after her time in Vegas, later told me that woman had meth mouth. I didn't care what kind of mouth she had; she was finally helping us. There were no fishing licenses behind the counter. We had to go up front. We had to wait in a line that didn't move. A cute baby on a tricycle ran over my foot. I looked around and saw no adult looking like they'd lost a kid. A little fat boy pushed me out of his way to get to the impulse candy. We continued waiting in line.
Finally a manager came over and after a few discussions it was established that while Walmart could sell us the fishing license, they didn't have the stamps that my friend's husband also needed. The manager suggested we go to some other Walmart a few exits away. We were not pleased. We asked if she could call the other Walmart and confirm they had what we needed. She said she would, walked away, and came back with the phone number for the other Walmart. We finally stepped out of The Line That Never Moved, after a solid 20 minutes of waiting in it. I called the other Walmart from the first Walmart. I got hung up on. Called back. Got put on hold indefinitely. Called back. Got a live person, asked to speak with a manager, got told they were all in a meeting. Explained what I needed, got put on indefinite hold again. Called back, told them I was calling from the other Walmart.
"Are you a Walmart Associate?"
"Yes I am, and we have a customer here who needs a fishing license."
At this point I wasn't even listening to the excuses anymore. I had run out of patience. The Walmart we were standing in was closing.
My friend and I went back to the nice manager, she turned on her Southern charm, and told Nice Manager we couldn't confirm whether the 24-hour Walmart she'd referred us to had the fishing license. My friend apologized to me multiple times. She drew me a rainbow and a unicorn to help pass the time. The manager picked up the phone and called the other Walmart for us, while she helped some dad of a skater boy with his DVD issue. I looked at Skater Boy and very quietly whispered to my friend that it looked like he'd had a nasty skating accident, judging by the scab on his elbow. Literally the second the words left my mouth, his hand wandered up to touch his elbow. He could not have heard me. Even a dog wouldn't have been able to hear me. Skater Boy's skater friend was twirling around on a chair while throwing a ball.
I was so bored and so tired of standing around. The manager who'd taken up our cause was on indefinite hold. She yelled at Meth Mouth to walk the store and get customers to stop shopping and go check out. She continued helping Skater Boy's dad. Finally she told us the other Walmart had lost all their fishing licenses. My friend borrowed my cell phone to call her husband and see what he wanted. Get the license without the stamps. So we did.
Hopefully I won't be back to Walmart in another two years.
posted by Green at 4/28/2006 10:31:00 PM
6 Comments:
Oh my gosh!! I have been on the same boycott here in Houston for years, and for ALL OF THE SAME REASONS!!!! I thought that I may just be being anal, or that perhaps my standards were just too high. Nice to know differently........Anyway, I have gotten as far as the Walmart parking lot a couple of times over the years. I thought that maybe I needed to give them another chance since I've changed neighborhoods. That's when I get a sick feeling in my stomach and have to speed away. No kidding.
Have you found a way to get the smell of popcorn out of your clothes yet? You may have to burn them.
Steve
Home Depot, Staples,here I come!
You hit the nail on the head but I'm sure you weren't able to get help to get the ones you wanted at Walmart!
If there were enough sales people who knew their stuff and the predominant language of the area,maybe the owners wouldn't be so damn rich! Ya think?
Walmart sucks in Canada too
I went to Home Depot to get some light bulbs. (How hard can that be?) Well ,actually they're flood light bulbls for indoor high hats - you know, those round lights that are recessed into the ceiling. (But I digress!)
Since we all know that any light bulb requiring standing on something (ladder, chair, stepstool...) to change it only blows out one at a time, but never that long before another one goes, I decided to buy 2 or 3 bulbs. I was standing in the 80 foot long aisle of light bulbs, looking for a box of the correct type of flood lights. That means a box of 2 or 3o bulbs - I don't feel the need to buy the contractor's special of 30 bulbs that would require renting a storage space to store them. I was actually approached by a Home Depot employee asking if I needed help! At that point I couldn't wait to get home to fill in the on-line customer satisfaction survey. I asked if the box of 3 bulbs I had found contained the same bulbs as the single bulbs I also found. It didn't seem right as the box of 3 cost a little less than 2 single bulbs. The employee said yer so I bought them.
Guess what - I didn't see that employee later that evening during my trip to return the box of the wrong bulbs and buy two of the correct bulbs! :-(
Oh man. I hate Wal-Mart. I honestly only go there if I absolutely positively have to. My husband insists that they have better prices on paper products and toiletries. To me - it isn't worth my sanity to go there for that stuff. I.DESPISE.WAL-MART!
C
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