Two weeks ago, David and I were on our way home from work, and we needed to get a few things, including something to eat, and remembering how wonderful ASDA curries were, we decided to get the cat food, flea collar, envelopes, etc., from Wal-Mart and check out the food section.
Well, of course they don't have curry here, nor did they have the Little Britain DVD that had just come out. But hey, we got the cat's stuff and the envelopes, so that was enough for us. We found the "express" check out and got in line.
Twenty minutes later, the line hadn't moved.
It took 30 minutes to get two people up in line because the register operator first ran out of coins and had to wait for someone to come to her. Then she got a WIC check she couldn't figure out how to process. Once again, she put the light on, but no one else came to help her. We considered getting into one of the massively long queues for more than 20 items, but they didn't seem to move fast either, and we could have left, but we were tired and it was on the way home, and with gas being what it is....
While waiting, we spied those "Tell Us How We're Doing" comment forms and filled them out in line. David was content to just check the boxes, but not me. Where it said "Was there anything you couldn't find today?" I listed everything I couldn't find that day--and every other time I've gone into the Cinnaminson Wal-Mart and left without the item I wanted. When it asked for additional comments, I went off on a tirade about how dirty, disorganized, and foul that store is and how unhelpful the staff is, and ended with querying as to where the store greeters are? I like my smiley-faced sticker given to me by a cute, friendly old man who waves when you walk out with your cart, like the Maryland Wal-Mart had. I also stated nothing was going to make me go back to that Wal-Mart, and I'd be taking my business to Target, not that they cared.
"After all, I'm just one customer. Neither you nor Target will notice my presence or lack thereof, but I will."
Surprise, surprise: there was a message on my answering machine tonight from Che, the Assistant Manager of Cinnaminson Wal-Mart (bit of a career step-down, isn't it? But I guess you can't get much of a job when you're dead.) Che (who didn't leave a last name, for obvious reasons! ha-za!) told me that if I called before 10pm, I could come into Wal-Mart to "discuss" my letter, which was forwarded with a letter from corporate, and so he could "help find" whatever I couldn't find.
Which is funny, as I mentioned in the letter that I had to go to three separate stores to find what I was looking for, and they weren't things that I'd need to buy later. How many Little Britain DVDs does one need, exactly? And what about the things they don't actually carry, like curry? Will Che manage to make it magically appear with his magic Communist powers of DOOM?!
What part of "Will never shop in Wal-Mart again" did they not understand? Did they just assume I was writing a letter of complaint to get something for free? Didn’t my good grammar, decent-enough spelling, and lack of legal threats not clue them into the fact that I was genuinely pissed off and not just begging for a hand-out? Surely not all complaints are written by 5-year-olds whose parents allowed them to watch too many Police Academy movies, filled with expletives and threats of lawsuits.
Still, I am intrigued. If nothing else, I might be able to prove, once and for all, that Che lives!