The Girl hates Wal-Mart with a deep in the belly hate. She believes that they are partly responsible for the looming apocalypse. They rape communities by closing all of the locally owned competition. This forces people to work at Wal-Mart. They pay their employees next to nothing insuring that the workers will be too poor to shop anywhere but Wal-Mart. Creating a vicious circle of poverty and cheap house wares. What Stalin was to communism and Hitler was to fascism, Sam Walton was to capitalism-bad men taking bad ideas to extremes.

That said, She recently found herself in Wal-Mart purchasing a grill and a smoothie maker. As usual there were 30 shoppers for every one Wal-Mart employee. So, She had to wait for 22 minutes (She timed it) for someone to assist her in removing the grill from the top shelf. While waiting, She enjoyed (insert sarcasm here) the keening wail of some poor child who sounded as happy to be in Wally World as She. Finally, a tiny employee dragged a ladder bigger than herself over and wrestled the grill from high over their heads. The Girl felt guilty because the worker was so small, but she did manage to hand over the cooker. So, grill and smoothie maker in basket, She went to check out.

Of course, this wasn't going to be easy either. Only three registers were open and the queues snaked around the store, disappearing into the greeting cards and ladies underwear. Noticing a cashier who was carrying a till, She asked if another line would be opening soon. The worker told Her to go to number 10, she would be there in a minute. So, The Girl went over, put her grill and smoothie maker on the belt, and waited. In about 5 minutes the cashier came over and began to ring Her purchases up.

It looked as if She would soon be finished with her descent into marked down hell, when from behind her came an angry voice, "Well, we'd be outta here if that rude bitch ha'n't jumped the line." "Surely," thought The Girl, "She isn't speaking to me." As if it had read her mind the even angrier voice said, "Yeah, bitch. I'm talking to you."

The Girl turned and beheld the owner of the voice. The voice belonged to a rather large and harried looking woman. She might have been 30, but if she was, it had been a long, hard, 30 years. Her hair was dyed the botched shade of orange brunettes get from do-it-yourself dye jobs. Her roots were showing. Her chapped lips were parted by the groove where a cigarette would have been resting were it not for the store's no smoking policy. She was fat. She was wearing polyester. And, slung on her hip, was the baby whose crying had so entertained the Girl on her shopping excursion.

The Girl sized up the situation and, not in the mood to play, She retorted, "Wrap your tiny mind around this: How can a person skip to the front of a non-existent line?" She turned around to pay for her purchases. The Fat Lady didn't sing. She bellowed, "Yew thank yore so special don't yew? Yew prissy little bitch. Yew ain't nuthin'. Yew wait 'til I git outside this store. Yew just went in fronta all these people who had been waitin'. Yew jes' wait."

"Please call security," the Girl asked the cashier.
"Call security bitch. I ain't gonna do nuthin' to yew. Yew ain't worth my time."
The Girl lost it, "I'm not worried about it. It's not as if you could catch me, now is it?" Before the Fat Lady could say another thing the Girl put up her hand, "Shut up! Shut your rude mouth!" people were backing away, " Perhaps this is how you behave in the trailer park when you are in need of entertainment, but we are in civilization now. And here in civilization, we don't behave this way. Shut your rude mouth! You may not speak to me that way."

The Fat Lady shifted the baby and her considerable heft onto her other hip. "Who do yew thank yew are, yew bitch?! Yew thank yore all that! Yew skipped all us and yew know it! "
"For Christ's Sake, you insane red-neck. THERE WAS NO ONE IN THIS LINE! It was not even OPENED!' the Girl felt herself becoming hysterical. Was She actually standing in the middle of Wal-Mart arguing with a stranger over whether or not She had cut line? Could this actually be happening? From the shocked , frightened look on the other shoppers' faces, she realized that it must be.

About that time, the manager walked up, "Can I help you?" The Girl tried to calm down. She could feel the whole store watching. "I don't know why this lady attacked me," she explained. "She is having a bad day. Perhaps, it is because her baby won't shut up. Perhaps, it is because she cannot seem to stick to her diet. Perhaps because she is wearing uncomfortably tight pants. Whatever the reason, she is taking it out on me." "Ma'am," he sighed, "if she weren't yelling at you it would be at me or a cashier or another customer. We get it all the time." The Fat Lady was beside herself, but didn't say a word. She just opened and closed her mouth as if she were a huge guppy, flopped up on the shore of public humiliation. Her righteous indignation was replaced by her confused embarrassment. The Girl just walked away.

"I'll walk you out," offered the man. As they went to her car, the Girl and the man chatted. He acted as if this were an everyday happening. He loaded her purchases into her car. He apologized. He waved as She drove away.

The Girl hates Wal-Mart. She has decided to never shop there again. The Girl is happy.