Confession

I hate Walmart.  Like really hate it.  I also hate Black Friday. Yesterday there were a variety of reports about Walmart shopping insanity.  A woman in a California Walmart was pepper-spraying people to get at their “door busters.”  Twenty different customers (including kids)were hurt.  In another store, displays were literally ripped down.  In South Carolina, someone opted to wait in the parking lot a try to rob a person at gunpoint instead. I love a good deal too, but really?  Year and after you hear about people getting trampled and they still allow it.  There has got to be another way people!

But even when you take Black Friday out of the equation, I hate Walmart. I realize that I live in a sizable city and have a large variety of shopping options and not everyone is so lucky.  So no offense to any of those that don’t.  My grandmother lives in a rural area of southern VA so we frequent the Walmart down there because its more convenient.  But I still hate it.  Everyone has seen those “People of Walmart” emails that circulate the net, and I swear to God I’ve seen some of those people in the store.  Not only that, but the people are all rude.  I get pushed out of someone’s way every freaking trip.  The last time it took every fiber of my being to not turn around and lash out in a redneck rage of fury.  Its like there’s some sort of evil magic in the air making good people go bad.  I bet those people in the emails looked just like you and me when they first started shopping at Walmat.  And every trip they inhaled that dust and each time it made them a little worse.  A few years later they’ve gained 75 pounds but never bothered getting new clothes, thereby leaving them with with midfriff shirts and gut spillage and neon pants that can’t quite cover their butts.  Makes sense, right?  I see no other explanation.

A couple of months ago we were having a lazy Sunday and I was having a catnap while Ava napped.  My husband came in the room and said “let’s go to Walmart today.” I initially thought I must be dreaming.  “I want to see what kind of deals they have.  See what all the fuss is about.”  I don’t know if it was because I was half-asleep or because I was just utterly confused at my husband wanting to shop at all, but I agreed.  NOTE: I am taking a deep breath right now just remembering.  It was so awful.  It looked just as run-down as the one at my grandmother’s and even the people looked the same.  Why are people wearing overalls in the city?  And why were there seemingly thousands of people in the store? I get claustrophobic in crowds and you literally had to fight your way through the aisles. Perhaps it’s not always that bad and I’m just that lucky, but that was it for me.

Two things happened when we left the store. (1) My husband apologized and said he’d never makes us do that again. (2) I became suddenly aware that I never bothered to change out of my sweatpants before leaving the house.  I have inhaled too much Walmart dust in my lifetime and I swear to you all right now that I will not be returning ever again.

 

Confession

Ok, I have a confession to make.  Please no one ever tell my daughter how spiteful I am.  Because I will never let on to her if I can help it.  Let me start by saying that I don’t hate that many people.  Dislike, sure.  But there is one person in this world that I hate.  Just flat out despise.  She sucks at life and as a person.  It is come to my recent attention that she is getting fat (again.)  I cannot express in words how excited I got over this.

Here’s the truth:  I LOVE when people I don’t like get fat.  It’s mean and hateful, but its just the way it is.  I can’t stop myself.   There is that saying that looking good is the best revenge.  Well for me it works in reverse.

Say what you will about me, but we all know that if you saw that the kid who tormented you in junior high, or the guy that dumped you in college got fat you would secretly laugh or at least think “that’s what you get, jerk.”