Welcome to Wal Mart, I Love You.

Dear Wal Mart,
I didn't want to go into you yesterday. In fact, you stand for everything I am against. Your low,low prices encourage people to consume more and more cheap plastic garbage they don't need.
I am not immune. I too find myself recklessly dropping bottles of conditioner and plastic margarita glasses into my cart, giddy with exhaustion and the thrill of a price cut. So I steeled myself against you as I approached. Like a siren who lures a sailor down into the depths of the sea, I knew you had the power to trap me for hours, releasing me only when my patience and bank account were empty.

While I was charmed by the attempt to recreate the ambiance of an El Salvadorian Bus terminal, it was with a sense of impending doom that I carried my baby into your maws. You see Wal Mart, taking care of a small child and trying to run a clothing company is making me want to slit my own throat. When my husband asks " what's for dinner?" I feel like answering " DIE". So we've agreed the best option is to put her in school, where she can play with other children instead of weeping, homicidal Mommy.
But, I digress.
Wal Mart, I know you don't really care about my domestic woes. You want to know what it is that has brought me into your metropolis of value.
The daycare ladies told me I must get a fold up plastic mat for nap time and that they are sold at Wal Mart.
Why plastic?
Why Wal Mart?
Why can't I weave one out of organic reeds and stitch it with thread made from recycled coke bottles?
Why can't I buy it local? Not that I would have had time to actually do that, but having no option other than a trip to Wal Mart made me irritable before I even got to your front door and began the process of choosing a shopping cart.
Upon trying to insert my squirming toddler into the cart I notice that there is no restraining belt. Childless people--just skip ahead. You think you can relate because you REALLY love your dog. You can't.
If there is no belt my daughter will stand up and try to dive headfirst out of the cart. So I look behind it.
and behind that.
And in the next row of carts. All the little restraining belts look as though they've been chewed off. Maybe the children who came before us were so desperate to escape this overlit, oversugered complex that they actually gnawed themselves out and ran into the parking lot looking for grass and fresh air. I don't know.
Wal-Mart- let's not play any games. I know that your profits have stayed up even in the leanest of times. I know that your low, low prices are only economically feasible because the products are made by 13 year old Asian children making 50 cents a day. I know that your wages are substandard, your benefits skimpy, and you lock your employees in overnight " to prevent theft".
So it is with pure rage that I scan the carts and see that so many of them don't have safety straps in them.
Come On!
Look across the highway to your classy cousin Target. When I see that red Bulls Eye I know that as long as I am willing to spend money I don't have on things I don't need, Target will at least provide me with the basic amenities to complete my shopping experience.
I look at little Ruby, who has begun to whimper.
" Lets just get a mat, Okay?" I say brightly.

I realise I have left the list of daycare items at home. Mat, Pillow, Blanket, diapers, something else. I may as well get it all while I'm here. Since Ruby chewed the antenna off my cell, I head for the payphone, park the cart a few feet away and dial my husband.
As I'm asking him what else we need she grabs my almost empty Starbucks cup and hurls it onto the floor, where it spins a little and then stops, spilling none of it's precious fluid.
I am still on the phone. Jeff lists some things we might need.
Even though I am clearly in full view of my child and my cup on the floor, and elderly woman walks up to me and says,

" She dropped that cup."

" Yes, I see that. I'm about to pick it up."

" I have to go," I tell Jeff.

And just then, a very very large woman waddles over to the cup.Her resemblance to a walrus in a Wal Mart uniform is more than passing. In fact, even now I can't remember the incident without seeing imaginary tusks.

Her foot is about 2 inches from it. She points her finger at me.

" Mamm!" she bellows," You need to pick up this here cup."

" Yes," I say " I see the cup. I'm almost off the phone, then I will pick it up"

I don't understand the hysteria over this cup. Aren't there other, more pressing safety concerns, like the cart-strap problem I noticed earlier?

It's been 45 seconds since it hit the floor and these people have responded with amazing speed and efficiency.
Everyone in line is now staring at me and my cup throwing child.

" uh-UH. " the walrus does no-no at me with her finger."You need to pick up this cup now before it causes a spill on the floor because that would be a HAZARD, okay?"

" HEY! " I am now pointing my finger back at her.

"I .AM .ON. THE .PHONE. LADY!
I WILL PICK UP THE CUP WHEN I AM OFF THE PHONE!"

I hate this place.

I feel like emptying the cup onto the floor. I feel like rubbing the cup all over my butt and hurling it at the Customer Service desk. Every one is staring at me.
Ruby is pointing too." Cup! Cup! Cup! Cup!" she yells.

A woman in line says under her breath,
"At least she's not letting her stand up in the cart." to the audience , so I point to her.
"SHUT UP!" This is getting out of hand. I need a mat.

"What the hell is going on down there Sunny?" Jeff is clearly afraid I'm on my way to a jail housed within this sprawling maze. Bail is set at a Low Low price today!

I hear the resignation in his voice and I can tell that this is one of those moments when he is questioning his choice of wife.

" Just get the mat and get out of there. What is wrong with you?"

I hang up the phone, pick up the offending cup, and push Ruby over to the Kids Section.
Just get the mat. it is my mantra.
get the matget the mat.get the mat.
There are no mats.
I ask an employee. She directs me to Housewares, two football fields away.
No mats.
Ruby begins to squirm and cry.
I ask another employee.No, he says, they are in Sporting Goods.
Ruby tries to push her way out, sideways.

" MOMMY OUT!" she yells.

" Wait a few more more minutes baby,"

We trek back across the vast demon belly of savings. I haven't felt the warmth of the sun in a long time.

get the mat.get the mat.

I push the cart and my now screaming child around and around Sporting Goods.
No Mats.
I ask another employee. I'm told to go back to Customer Service.

As I approach the desk I realise it's the Walrus behind it. She gives me a flat and hostile stare as I approach.

" I need a mat, a plastic folding mat for daycare."

" We all out this time of the year. Come back at Back to School." She barely looks up from her computer.

" Are you sure? Check the computer.They won't let me enroll her in daycare without this godamn mat. Listen to me, I need this mat Lady!"

" They aint no need to check the computer mamm because we don't have em. Sorry."
She begins to waddle off somewhere to lay her eggs in the sand or whatever walruses do. Are they mammals? I Don't know anymore! I have to get out of here!

" Are you serious? You don't have them? Are you serious?"

I'm really losing it now. She turns one baleful eye on me, curious.

"Why is it always Hell every time I try to come here? Why? This is the most horrible place on earth!"

I am shouting.Two other workers look up slightly.

Ruby says, " HELL! HELL! HELL!"

" I am leaving! " I declare. Clearly they are concerned.

"I am NEVER coming back to Wal Mart!"

No one is even looking at me except one sweet little old lady in a tiny blue uniform.

" I'm sorry mamm." she says.

Then I feel bad,

" Oh no, it's not your fault ,I'm sorry, Im sorry I yelled. I know it's not your fault. It's just that you work for the most evil corporation on earth , that's all."

As Ruby and i are walking out the door I spy the Cup in the basket.

" Hey," I hand her the cup and whisper.

" Throw that cup for Mommy!"