In my quest to find particular Halloween items, I sometimes wander into some sad and desperate places. None has ever been as sad and desperate as my recent visit to Walmart.
I haven’t been into a Walmart store in 20-30 years. I hate the place. It feels like the apocalypse has come and gone leaving piles of detritus behind for the last few humans to fight over. I once had the misfortune of working for a company who relied on sales to Walmart. I got to witness firsthand the arrogance and condescension of Walmart buyers who knew they held people’s livelihoods in their talons. They would insist on purchases that the company lost money on in order to ensure other purchases. This was before Amazon had gripped America, so Walmart wielded a mighty fist. I imagine things are similar (or worse) when dealing with Amazon today.
I had read online that Walmart had those Empire blow mold trick or treat pails shaped like jack o’ lanterns. You know the ones. They used to be for sale everywhere for 99 cents during every Halloween season, but these days, they’re hard to come by. I wanted a couple of them for a project, so I actually looked up the closest Walmart and made a special trip there this week. I sincerely wish I hadn’t.
The outside of the store was nice enough. It really didn’t betray the evil lurking inside. The parking lot was a total mess, but that’s to be expected in the area where the store is. However, once I got through those doors, my personal hell began.
I won’t go through every detail, but I will say that I felt dirty immediately. Maybe it was the sky high stacks of garbage products that made me feel like I was on the trench run in Star Wars. Maybe it was how the employees seemed to cower like they’d been recently whipped. Maybe it was the way i was eyed suspiciously by fellow customers who couldn’t be bothered to wear underwear. By the time I reached the Halloween merch, I was itching to leave.
Sadly, I never saw the product I’d ventured into that hellscape for. To be honest, it might have been there. I just couldn’t be bothered to go up and down every aisle in search of it. I found myself eager to leave, so leave I did.
On the way out, I set off the store’s security alarm. I didn’t miss a beat and kept right on walking. I felt a lot like a prisoner who’d found the gap in the fence. No way was I hanging around any longer than I had to.
I sincerely felt relief once I was back in my car. I decided then and there that I’d mastered the Walmart Escape Room for the last time and I vowed never to return. At least not until Walmart decides to sell more Halloween blow molds.