Tag Archives: shopping

The Walmart Microwave Hunt

Welcome to Wal-Mart. Sorry are the giants bin displays of fun pops, batteries, and aloe vera in your way?

Welcome to Walmart. Sorry are the giants bin displays of fun pops, batteries, and aloe vera in your way?

I would’ve put up a better fight, but I was feeling bloated and hungry and the appeal of a cheap and easy nuking machine beat out my conscience.  So we went to Walmart for a microwave. I don’t take this sentence lightly, I assure you — I spent an entire semester Sophomore year of college on a journalism research project about the class action suit brought up by women against the corporation; I’m convinced I only got an A- because my teacher was halfway through having her tenure revoked and fully on her way to becoming a crazy conspiracist.

But Walmart’s just so much cheaper. Sometimes, we compromise our supposed morals for low prices (especially when unemployed) and, of course, for the chance to watch an entire family go from clothes shopping to vision appointments to toy shopping to grocery shopping and finally, to a quick dinner at McDonald’s without having to leave the comfort of their local Walmart SuperCenter — It’s like watching the ultimate Supermarket Sweep challenge live.

mckayla-notimpressedBut Walmart still triggers the spoiled six-year-old brat response in me — My face morphs into a McKayla Maroney “I’m not impressed” look like a true diva. If walking down a frozen aisle where there’s fifteen freezer doors worth of frozen pizza variety and only six worth of frozen veggies doesn’t elicit an automatic face-palm-response then we obviously just wouldn’t get along.

I knew I was losing my mind when Matti held up frozen mozzarella sticks with a remember-how-I-used-to-eat-dairy-and-fried-foods-before-I-met-you face and I said, “Are you fuc– well, actually, I’m kind of in the mood for mozz sticks.” Translation: Sure, I’m kind of in the mood to turn into Ursula from the Little Mermaid later, when the fried dairy starts to Perfect Storm my stomach — but at least I won’t know when it’s coming.

But when we get to the microwave aisle I’m less “not impressed” and more about-to-turn-into-the-Hulk because it’s not even that cheap — it’s basically the same price as Target except I don’t get to venture off next door into the aisle of plates that perfectly matches our apartment’s color palette as Matti pays for makes the hard microwave decisions. (I can sense olive green home decor from an unparalleled distance.)

But we have to get the microwave, because we’re here, in Walmart, and I’ve already started drinking my unsweetened tea without paying for it. As an attempt to make this trip worth it I stop to glance at the bath mats, since we’ve been using a dirty white towel with the word “fun” on it since we moved in. Apparently though, bath mats are the only product where the price, despite the store, never changes. I swear to Mindy that I’ve been in 20 different places looking for a bath mat and they never get cheaper — no, not even at Walmart. What are you good for, Walmart, if not for everyday low prices?

flowersI start to get mad at Walmart like it’s my half sister– what’s up with your flower section? You have carnations, carnations, florescent carnations and dying roses. You could maybe utilize the space being taken up by the giant bins of batteries and fun pops in the middle of the main aisle for a blossoming, slightly neater flower station. Maybe? How about just getting that old man that works in produce to get his hand out of his pants?

I leave Walmart right after handing the cashier an abandoned rotisserie chicken left on top of the People Magazine rack. She seems appreciative and I immediately start worrying about what they are going to do with the chicken. How long could it have been sitting there, getting cold, decomposing, alone in an aisle of candy and soda and last minute grabs. I hoped like me, the chicken would get out of there soon.

Ikea or DIE!

I went to Ikea last weekend and now I am going to tell you what I think of Ikea. First of all, people are APPALLED if they find out you’re an adult who has never been to Ikea. It was not TOO difficult to miss out on this jarring experience for so long but who knows, everyone is different.

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Sometimes I feel like stores conspire against me. Like the store knows when I’m coming and what I like at that given moment. “You’re obsessed with olive green right now, are you? Well, let me give you 3,000 different items in that color. Some even have floral patterns!” What am I the typical woman or something? (Yes, yes you are, says the home decor industry).

It took a while to stop staring at the young family that was having a lesson in store manners. You know, that family that clearly does everything the right way. The kind of family that makes you feel bad for not walking your dog the last two days. The mom just had her shit together. She was all, “I’m gonna stay super calm and wait for you to be done being a child,” to her husband while the children wailed about how unfair life was. And hey, they were right. At six years old, a saturday afternoon at Ikea is a Normal Rockwell painting with the caption “Life is unfair.” I was more concerned, however, with how this dad was going to make it through the day. He looked like he’d rather be golfing in North Carolina and who could blame him? (besides every child who grew up with absentee dads that went golfing in North Carolina.)

A few days later I went to the store Home Goods for the first time and WHAT THE SHIT. First of all, do reusable bag holders and spice racks that can hang on your pantry door exist? Because this store had everything minus those two items. Since when were fake bird cages so hip? How many versions of beachy end tables with scrubbed off paint exist? Because I want all of them.

Back to Ikea. Sometimes I find myself at random stores looking around at the people that work there wishing I had there life. I did not do this at Ikea. In no way did I want to be Marissa, stalking different color coasters while I beg her, “Are you SURE there are no olive green placemats left?” No, I would rather be any place but here.