Revisiting Old Blogs pt 1

I want to post something at least every week to keep you entertained. Or to look like I have a life. Whatever fits better. Unfortunately, I may not always have time to tell you what's on my mind just yet, so I plan to post blogs from the past which may be relevant, or just amusing enough to share.

Original Post: My Walmart.
Original Posting: April 4, 2008, Myspace/Facebook


"I have a word that I only use in the most special of moments. I can use that word now to describe my Walmart. GHETTO. I have the most ghetto Walmart in Silicon Valley (somewhat) down the street from my house. San Jose people reading this probably know which one I am talking about.
I used to shop at Walmart a lot before the gods smiled upon me and blessed me with a new store. Target. But that discovery on that blessed day will be recounted on a different entry. Back to Walmart. It was the only one that was not over 30 min from my house, so I had no choice but to go to the one on Monterey. I never noticed its ghettoness then, however it is possible that I was so sweet and innocent that I was immune to its ghetto powers. I was young and foolish once upon a time, I know this now.
It was always full of hurried people who cared not for the happiness/courtesy/safety of others, and those who thought they were too good to pick up any messes their kids made (honestly, no one shopping at Walmart is "too good" for anything.) I suppose that, after a long time shopping there at Christmas time, I learned how to fight my way to come out on top.
Then there was a period called "And Thus I Did Not Shop At Walmart For A Really Long Time." It was a happy time filled with trips to Rasputin for my music and movies, best buy for my electronics, and borders/Barnes and noble for my books. I even began to buy clothing else where that fit me better and made me feel less like white trash. (I do not fully understand the term "white trash" and only used it here because it seemed to fit. I apologise if it offended anyone.) Alas, though these other stores provided bountiful items of happiness and joy, they did not have the prices Walmart had. And thus came the "Time When Jenn and Zac Began To Run Low On Funds."
Symptoms suffered during this time include bank machines laughing, mooching off of parents, eating parents’ food, and eating cheap food. The last two items caused Zac and I to have some serious stomach issues that do not need to be shared at this venue. So, to get a much needed Iron and material for a Cosplay that we are working on, Zac and I got my parents to take us to Walmart after dinner one dark and stormy night. (Okay, it was not really dark and stormy, but it sure does make the story better!)
The first thing I noticed was that the garden center was no longer open. Strange, because it was only around 8 pm on a Friday. Then, when we walked in (Welcome to *ghetto* Walmart) I noticed something weird. Zac pointed it out immediately. "There is no ceiling." Odd... Roof, yes, Ceiling, no... The same disorganization and lack of underpants in the size/style I needed were there, and there were no other real surprises until, whilst looking at irons, I realised I needed to investigate the facilities. I fought my way through two large, unyielding crowds and barely made it into a stall when I noticed the next ghetto thing. There were toilet covers strewn about the floor, probably (I hope) unused, and there were ZERO in the holder. Then the toilet flushed (it was an auto flusher) whilst I was depositing, and refused to flush again after I had completed my transaction. So I gave up on the auto flush and left my remaining balance in the pot. I can now say that I made a contribution to the ghettoness of my Walmart.
Zac, later in the trip, also had to make use of the bathroom. I waited a ways away, so as not to be confused with the stalking type who lingers outside of the john. When Zac came out, he had a n odd, almost violated look on his face. My first thought was that some punk kid had peeked on him whilst he was completing his transaction. I asked him what was wrong and he told me. Someone had carved a gang symbol into his toilet seat.
You really don’t get much more ghetto than that.
And for those of you who are wondering why this amuses me so, think about how Walmart was originally in the South. As in Shopping Destination for Hicks. Hicks and Ghetto don’t usually mix. Only in San Jose.

Walmart Woman