nin137

Nick's Journal
2002-03-25 06:04:52 (UTC)

Walmart (for the pessimist)

Nothing's worse than entering those stupid swinging doors
that inevitably clamp down upon you for on apparent
reason. No matter how hard I try i can't get through
those god damn thigns with out them tweakign my balls,
maybe I should start using the entrance for entrance and
the exit for exit instead of vice versa. finally i'm
instead the store and i trail my mom through the aisles.
after about 2 mins of this i realize how insanely pathetic
it is that a 20 yr. old is following his mom through her
errands so i decide to make use of my skills/education and
venture off into the abyss known as the rest of the
store......big mistake.
immediately i'm subjected ot reality which comes to me in
the form of "mullet man" mullet man is an embittered
hybrid of a redneck and a mullet. the mullet has a mind
of its own and sometimes it does weird things.....like
shout anti-semitic slurs. i pass by mulletman as i scan
the racks of magazines (in hopes of a MAD magazine) as
this blatanly jewish woman screams of the intercom "ms.
blake, your child is waiting for you ath the service
department", mullet man mimics the voice with an overly
exaggerated accent and the mutters to me "fucking jews",
followd by a nod and "how's it going man".
fucking great. great people. traversing the frozen food
aisles i venture across a rather large lady scanning the
chips section and cautiously and (as best she can)
surreptitiously glancing at a beautiful dress hanging
across from the chips (only at walmart could a summer
dress and funions coincide in such harmony). as she looks
back and forth i cna see the animosity towards the chips
mask the forelorn haplessness of her thoughts. between
her line of vision from the dress to the chips she
probably remembers the path her life took from a careless
girl in such a gorgeous dress to the slave of funions she
is now. her disillusion that maybe if she could fit into
that dress again her husband would finally pay attention
to her are quickly overrun by the fact that he'd probably
use her as an obese punchign bag if she didn't coem back
with the cheetos.
the emaciated father passes by me next, with his 3 kids.
a boy and a girl about 6-9 racing around in front of him,
treating him as an insignificant obstacle in their wistful
game. the baby sitting infront of him in stares at him
with such vacant eyes he wonders whether the sperm and the
egg forgot to colloborate on a cerebellum, but then again
its better the little twerp sits and stares around like
will smith at the oscars then screams like an in-
considerate imbecile. he hits one of his kids in the heel
with his cart, and isntead of being sympathetic he is
infuriated by the cries of pain. if only he hadn't been
such a dumbshit 10 yrs. ago.....
i move through the mass of smelly people to the heart-rate
machine. the second i sit down and the cuff closes in on
me about 20 elders decide they want their pressure too.
they stand and stare at me from their medicated state and
make me feel guilty. i finally get out of the geriatric
ward and look around helplessly for my mom. as usual she
finds me as i amble through the aisles. all i want is to
get the fuck out of there and the asian checking us out
throws the plastic bags at me as if it were my fault that
he's baggin groceries instead of doing something
worthwhile.
thank god i'm out of there.




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