Wal-Mart is a bizarre place.

From the always-awful People of WalMart

 

I work around the corner from what they call a "Super Wal-Mart." I'm not 100% clear on what makes this Wal-Mart so superior to other ones, but it's certainly quite large. I try not to go there very often, but it's less than three minutes from work, so I've been known to stop there for things like shampoo or cough drops or whatever on my way to or from work.

Today my WBF (work best friend, duh) Sarah emailed me that she had to run an errand to Wal-Mart on her afternoon break and did I want to come? I was like, YES: I will approach this like I'm a sociologist and I am going to learn everything I can about these people. Turns out it's hard to form a coherent thought about mankind while in a Wal-Mart.

Have you ever been in a Super Wal-Mart less than three weeks before Christmas? It was wild. We were there at 1 pm on a Tuesday and the place was jammed. And the people. The man who looked like Skeletor but with a patchy beard. The woman in the electric cart who waited until I was even with the basket to start driving directly at me like we were bitter enemies. The well-dressed guy in front of us buying a 30-rack of malt liquor and some Dayquil. The mom with a cart full of toys who told her toddler, loudly, to shut up when he started to cry. The cheerful black man dressed as Santa (who I'm 90% sure was not an employee). The surprisingly high number of school-aged kids in the store. The employee who rattled off, Rain-Man style, all the possible places in the store they might keep boot trays (which, it turns out, they were out of).

Ever want to feel pretty good about where you are in life? Spend some time at the Super Wal-Mart this time of year. Suddenly things don't seem so bad.