Every now and again, that dreaded moment arrives in every American home; the time you realize you need something that can’t be purchased at Target, and the only answer is to go to the one place no one wants to go. It’s the place with websites dedicated to making fun of its patrons.
That dreaded place is Walmart.
Tonight was such a night for the Newlin household. The dogs needed food. They’re so needy and demanding sometimes, aren’t they? Normally, we purchase dog food at Target, but Purina tortures us with each bag we purchase by including a coupon to Walmart for $5 off the next bag. I think it’s corporate America’s attempt to keep us coming back for more.
Unfortunately it works because this girl loves a deal.
Don’t get me wrong, I’m not an extreme couponer, but with three dogs in the house, things get pricey. And smelly. Things also get smelly.
We knew we needed sustenance to sustain ourselves as we braved the freakshows of Wally World. We decided on a hearty meal at Subway, where we noshed on five dollar foot longs. Didn’t I say I loved a deal?
After filling our bellies and refilling our to-go cups, we headed to the car to begin the task of mentally preparing for our trip.
My husband always likes to psych us up before we go into Walmart. I’ve never been in the military, but I think his preparations are akin to warriors going into battle.
We discussed strategy and the lay of the store, and mapped out the most efficient way to get our items while limiting our exposure to the freakshows that are Walmart’s patrons. I wish I was even remotely exaggerating this part of the story, but I couldn’t be more serious.
We also strategically planned the best time to go, and we decided 9:00 p.m. on a Sunday night would be a quieter time, when the regular patrons were at home in their trailers watching Dog the Bounty Hunter.
I was recording it at home on DVR, so no worries there.
We approached the store together, unified as one front. We went straight for the carts and began our pre-determined route. As we continued on our path, our self-loathing consuming us, we couldn’t help but notice all the amazing things the store had to offer.
Granted, I discovered mascara in the refrigerator where I retrieved my milk, and a bag of Depends in the dog food aisle, but I was embarrassed to admit I found great things at reasonable prices.
As we headed toward the checkout lane, our heads hung in shame, we noticed the highlight of our trip; a man who was nearly bald but still rocking a rat tail several inches in length. I tried my best paparazzi moves to snag a picture of his hair, but was unsuccessful (TMZ would be so disappointed).
Two hundred and eighty dollars later we headed out the door, where we observed a meth head sucking down her cigarette before going inside to purchase copious amounts of Sudafed.
We drove home in silence, too embarrassed to admit where we were and what we had done. This was our ‘Nam and we won’t discuss it…until the dogs need food again, and we repeat the torturous trip.
Until then, I will return to my beloved Target, where I might pay a little more for toothpaste, but at least I won’t be bombarded by the smell of B.O. at the checkout (assuming I wore deodorant that day).