I went to Walmart today. I usually seem to go before the holidays. I had come for one very specific item which the internet told me could be found at Walmart, Coco Lopez cream of coconut. The last two years when I went, it seemed scarily empty. Not today.
Today it was jam packed with the League of Nations and boomers. All of them completely oblivious to anyone else around them. Stopping in the middle of aisles to get on their phones. Nothing stocked, shelves looking like they’d been looted. Black and Brown employees leaning checking their phones. Groups of jeets jesting and laughing in durga. I asked a white dude where the drink mixers were, he in a thick Ukrainian accent asked the jeet next to him, who patiently explained to me that Walmart doesn’t sell alcohol.
The shortest checkout line had eight people ahead of me. When I finally got to the checkout pajeeta, she asked me how I was doing. I said ‘fine, how are you?’ like the polite Canadian I am, despite the hellish last hour spent wandering in the store. “How do you think?!” was her response. I thought of a couple snarky responses, like ‘bet this makes you miss the calm of Amritsar’ but instead said nothing.
I realize no sane person ventures out to Walmart the Sunday before Christmas amongst the great unwashed and I know better. What a schmozzle. But damn it, we’re going to have pina coladas on Christmas Eve.
Today it was jam packed with the League of Nations and boomers. All of them completely oblivious to anyone else around them. Stopping in the middle of aisles to get on their phones. Nothing stocked, shelves looking like they’d been looted. Black and Brown employees leaning checking their phones. Groups of jeets jesting and laughing in durga. I asked a white dude where the drink mixers were, he in a thick Ukrainian accent asked the jeet next to him, who patiently explained to me that Walmart doesn’t sell alcohol.
The shortest checkout line had eight people ahead of me. When I finally got to the checkout pajeeta, she asked me how I was doing. I said ‘fine, how are you?’ like the polite Canadian I am, despite the hellish last hour spent wandering in the store. “How do you think?!” was her response. I thought of a couple snarky responses, like ‘bet this makes you miss the calm of Amritsar’ but instead said nothing.
I realize no sane person ventures out to Walmart the Sunday before Christmas amongst the great unwashed and I know better. What a schmozzle. But damn it, we’re going to have pina coladas on Christmas Eve.
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