If you have heard one horrible Walmart story, you’ve heard them all, right? Oh….oh…you are so wrong. You haven’t heard this one, and I promise, it’s worth sticking around for.
So my husband has started a bocce league here in Omaha. For those of you who don’t know, that’s how the hubby and I met in DC. You can actually read the story here. So the league in Omaha is about to begin and we have to order a bunch of supplies – including small orange cones. Walmart had the best deal so we did the Site to Store deal-e-o.
So I bring my 4 and almost 2-year-old with me because I naively think this will only take 5 minutes to pick up. However, what I didn’t realize was that there is a secret vortex when you walk into Walmart that sucks you into a massively disorganized time trap. What started as a 5 minute trip ended with a one hour experience from hell.
First, it took 10 minutes for an employee to come answer the page to the desk (I’m guessing they were smoking outside where it seems every employee was). Then, it took 10 minutes to find the package. (I’m frightened if they ever had to learn the dewey decimal system…) Then, when they opened to check the quantity….guess what? IT WAS EMPTY! Yep, a completely empty box. Now here’s the kicker. I ran out of snacks at this point. I’m stuck in the department store for the undead with a toddler and preschooler and I have no snacks. Plus, I had to stay with the manager who was calling Flo (yes, that was really her name. I, too, imagined the girl from Progressive on the other end of the phone…) to get authorization to resend package.
So finally we get authorization and I’m thinking we are done, and what happens? The manager needs to call another number for FINAL authorization. I’m sorry, is there such a thing as double authorization? Isn’t one yes enough? Geez, this guy needs constant reaffirmation.
Now, while we wait for double authorization (insert eye rolling here), my children have now screamed their way out of the cart and are loose. Attention Walmart shoppers, my pissed off kids are loose and should be treated as dangerous creatures. They have now been in Walmart for over 45 minutes and are ready to run wild. I corral them near the books area and they proceed to nicely sit down and read some books. Ah, how pleasant and calm.
Just as final authorization is complete, new cones have been ordered, and I’m ready to run a 50 yard sprint out the door, my son brings up a Micky Mouse coloring book. He has successfully ripped out at least 10 pages that are spread across the floor of the aisle. It almost looks like a wedding aisle of petals, except this one has Mickey Mouse’s head cut in half and Minnie’s legs on different sides of the walkway. Then, the part of the story that truly sealed the deal of absolute disdain and hatred for this experience, the manager looks at my son holding the torn up $1 coloring book and says, “You’re going to pay for that, right?”
I had no words. Yes, I’m telling you the truth. Me, the girl with a mouth the size of Texas, had no words. I dropped $1 on the counter and left. I did, however, get a shining moment of revenge when my daughter said loud enough for everyone to hear, “Mommy, I just tooted right next to that man and it was really smelly, I’m sorry.” No need for apologies my girl, no need at all. I just wish I had thought to do that myself.
