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i think i've said this before... in fact, i know i've said this before... they need to put some fucking stoplights in the Wal-Mart parking lot. seriously. before someone gets hurt.
nobody pays attention the goddamn stop signs. they're like, british royalty... they're there for the sake of tradition.
in fact... i bet if i went up there right now and stole one of those signs, no one would notice. but, you know, i can't lift anything heavier than a gallon of milk... doctor's orders... you know how it is. of course... that excludes any chairs and/or highchairs located in or around Fire Mountain. heaven forbid i put my health over the job.
but back to Wal-Mart... i went in there to get a bag of Doritos. ALL I WANTED WAS A BAG OF DORITOS. and i was like, mauled by the Christmas shoppers....
you know what? they need some stoplights inside the fucking building, too. like, at the end of the aisles. you know what i'm talking about... we've all been there.
there's the over-enthused grandma charging down the the cooking aisle in order to make it to the toy section like it's the fucking Fountain of Youth to buy her grandson the new Spiderman action figure.
and the confused housewife who can't seem to find the automotive section even though it's right in front of her face. and if she LOOKED UP she can see the goddamn tires hanging behind the sign that says AUTOMOTIVE. but no. she chooses to go .000000001 mph with an empty shopping cart through the cramped aisles searching for any sign of an AUTOMOBILE.
then you can't forget the overweight, hygeine-lacking middle aged man walking in front of you who, apparently, just ate every burrito Taco Bell had to offer, along with five pounds of baked beans, 3 pounds of which landed on his shirt. and he can't seem to hold in his gaseous secretions. you pray that he's looking for the restroom... but your hope drains as he seems to be going exactly where you want to go.
and the children... oh, the children. the 4-year old children whose parents let them push the carts even though they can't see where they're going. and they run into everyone and everything within 2-foot range. and the parents laugh. and the kids laugh. and it's all just so fucking funny that the child can't see where he's going and he knocks over the over-enthused grandma. well, she's not laughing.
she's going to sue Wal-Mart. because they didn't have any fucking stoplights in the building.
~scribbled by jen sometime around 3:05 AM
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