Tuesday, July 29, 2008

DOH-mer Of The Week- F#@k Sports, I’m going after Walmart

I don’t care what you did in the world of sports last week. You could have rushed the baseball mound, and then fired a 100 mph fastball into the stands that knocks a spectator on his ass, and I’m not touching it. It can be marijuana possession, DUI or domestic violence, and I wouldn’t give a sh*t. The court can give you a small $100 fine for putting a bag over your son’s head or the NFL refused to give a fine or suspension for you runnning someone over with your Lexus, and I won’t care. Well, at least not this week. I’ve got the world’s largest retailer in my crosshairs. This cheap labor having, overtime without payment implementing, undocumented worker hiring, racial profiling Mega-store’s ass is mine.

Let me take you to the beginning, so you know exactly how everything went down:

The Mission: We have an elderly gentleman and his wife that room with us for one week out of each month. That week is usually scheduled for doctor appointments and blood work, so they need the assistance getting him around. This elderly gentleman has several health problems, so he has many needs. On Friday, they needed someone to run to Walmart and pick up a package of adult diapers, so I volunteered, and the saga began.

Phase I: I arrive at the local Walmart, and entering the building, passing the so called “greeters”, which I really know are people more likely stationed to pay attention to those exiting the store than anyone entering, I received the fake “hello” and moved on to the pharmacy area.

Phase II: I’m standing in an aisle, viewing a variety of packages of adult diapers, and not seeing the one I was told to pick up. I get on my cell phone, make a call, and start explaining to the woman who sent me that they have everything but the package she requested (the empty space on the counter was probably where they were). I scanned the shelves maybe two or three times, wanting to be sure I hadn’t missed it, before I decided to leave.

Phase III: While I’m telling the woman that I’m now positive that they’re out, I hear a voice on the store’s public address system, and it was pretty damn loud. The voice said, “Security cameras, please scan the pharmacy area.” I then did a quick scan of the pharmacy area myself, and found that I was the only person in it.

Phase IV: Are you sh*tting me? Walmart pegged me for a thief, and of adult diapers, no less? Who was the f*cking genius in charge on that night? Obviously, whoever it was, came to a quick conclusion that I was someone that couldn’t hold my bladder, but damn sure had a pocket that could hold a package containing 50 adult diapers. Of all the products offered at Walmart, who the hell steals adult diapers? What exactly is the going rate on the streets for that hot item?..AND WHY AM I PROFILED AS AN ADULT DIAPER BANDIT?!?!?

Completion: I decided to let the a*shole follow me around the store, whoever the DOH’mer was that made the announcement. I got on my phone, struck up a conversation with a friend, and walked up and down every f*cking Walmart aisle. I stood in the “Women’s panties” section for at least 15 minutes, after which I then found the aisle containing tampons and panty shields. Hell...WHY NOT?!

I can now tell you every damn thing Walmart has to sell, and damn near give you all the prices. I eventually made my way back to the pharmacy, and being the smartass that I am, I pushed the button that signals that a customer needs assistance. Do you know it took more than 15 minutes for someone to show up to help me? What the f*ck were they doing, drawing straws, and the loser had to face me? A woman finally arrived (and she was probably the smallest person on staff, poor thing) and I asked about the next shipment of adult diapers. She said a truck arrives that night, but wasn’t sure about the inventory, and our conversation was done, along with my Walmart trip.

When I was younger, a couple of my best friends (one a blonde haired Mormon and the other a full blooded Irishman) would ask me to go to the store with them. The purpose being (believe it or not), so they could have me walk down an aisle and draw attention, while they stuffed their pockets with everything they needed. This was one of those times I wished they were available.

I’m sure Jesse Jackson and Al Sharpton are available, but why call a couple of DOH’mers to complain about another one? Can you feel me?

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