Another Rant about Wal-Mart...

Now, it really is my fault for going into the store in the first place. I mean, I should've known from the start that it was not going to be a fun trip. Besides the mountains of anecdotal evidence from past experiences, there were also signs in the parking lot that I should have just turned around and went back home, or gone a quarter mile further to Shop 'N' Save and paid the 20% mark-up on all the groceries I buy. I mean, what's a few dollars compared to your sanity? But, no. I decided to wait behind the moron, waiting behind the moron in aisle twelve who had yet to even put one bag of groceries into his car. NEWSFLASH: If you are waiting for a parking space occupied by a person who has yet to even unload one bag from his cart, you are an IDIOT unless one or more of the following criteria have been met: 1) It is -10 degrees and you have a car full of tiny children you need to parade across the vast expanse that is the Wal-Mart parking lot, 2) You are 8+ months pregnant, or 3) You are 80+ years old, or 4) Grossly handicapped and all the handicapped spaces are taken. If none of these apply, well then you are just a moron. Sorry about your luck.

Once inside the wonderful shopping atmosphere that IS Wal-Mart's trademark, I was not even greeted by the door greeter. And it wasn't even an old person wearing tri-focals who probably couldn't even see her watch if you asked her the time. It was a girl probably younger than me, with full function of both retinas. You know what... if you aren't going to do your job and at least say Hi to the people walking in, what is the point? You are just being paid to stand there and do nothing. What a waste of Wal-Mart's valuable resources. I mean, they could've paid 20 six year olds in China to make airsoft rifles for a month with your wage, and here you are just taking advantage of your white privilege and slacking on your duty to say, "Hello. How are you this evening?"

Now, I don't know why I wait til Sunday night to do my shopping...it just always seems like the most opportune time to get away from my screaming children. I should really pick a different day though, because many of the things I wanted were sold out. And even though the store was packed with customers, there seemed to be an unseemly number of stockers in the aisles, getting in the way and making each aisle seem like an episode of Ninja Warrior. I mean, it is bad enough that you have to make your way around the idiot customers who seem to LIVE in certain aisles, but when you have to dodge giant racks of produce as well, it gets a little tedious. However, I finally did get through the two mile journey that is the Super-Wal-Mart grocery section, only to be met with Tweedle Dee & Tweedle Dum in the check-out lane.

They needed two carts instead of one, because apparently their four year old had not yet learned how to walk beside them in the store, so one whole cart was devoted to transporting her. The other one had the groceries in it. Ok, fine. Whatever works for you! However, once they got the little rascal out of her cart and had packed all their bags in the first cart, they never moved the empty cart out of my way... they just left it there in front of the conveyor belt... and did not move far enough out of my way so that I could move the cart without running them over (which I must admit, I was half-way considering doing). They finally did move out of my way, but left the cart there in my way. I mean, shit they just pushed that entire cart around the entire store, they can't be expected to move it 20 feet more. That would just be asking too much.

Now, I realize I am a grown person fully capable of moving a cart out of my way (I do it all the time in the parking lot since no one seems to understand what those Cart Corral things are for), but I find it uber-hard to believe that a GROWN COUPLE with CHILDREN need to be reminded to GET THEIR SHIT OUT OF OTHER PEOPLE'S WAY. How hard is it to pull your head out of your ass for the short time you are around other people?

What really saddens me is that Wal-Mart seems to be the microchasm of the entire American Society. This worries me deeply...

ER Doctor haz a dumb...???

So, the only thing more terrifying than finding yourself in an Emergency Room with weird symptoms that make you feel like you are going to lose consciousness at any moment, is the realization that the doctor you have been assigned to for, no doubt the rest of the afternoon, evening, and night is the same idiot doctor your husband had about a year earlier. The doctor who didn't seem able to comprehend small sentences, didn't listen to any of the answers to the questions he asked, and gave your hubby about three minutes of his time... spaced over about five hours.

Luckily, you are given a nurse who seems to have an IQ that is in fact, higher than his shoe size and even has a sense of humor. He doesn't blow out any of your veins taking blood samples, nor does he ask the same idiotic questions over and over again. However, this cannot save you from Doctor Moron, who dwells on ONE of your symptoms, over-looks all the others, and immediately dismisses you (assuring you that everything is *normal) giving you discharge papers listing reasons to come back. And when you look at the reasons you need to come back up to the dreaded ER, three of the five symptoms are things you presented with in the first place. Lovely. Well, at least you have the comfort of knowing that you will be charged thousands of dollars to find out how normal you are.

So, the next day you go to your own doctor, who is actually NOT a moron and walks you through all the tests the hospital ran. He even shows you all the results from your blood tests and explains what each one means. And guess what? Many of them are NOT normal!!! In fact, some are SO not normal, that he decides that maybe other tests should be run to rule out more serious conditions. I mean, afterall--it isn't everyday that you feel so loopy and out of it that you call someone to pick you up from work and let her drive you to the ER, barely putting up a fight. After ordering his own blood tests, Dr. Not-A-Moron decides also to have an EEG run on you. In fact, you can have it done immediately! And guess what? Lucky YOU, those results need to be sent off to a cardiologist. I mean, not many 26 year olds can say they have had a cardiological consult. But you are so lucky, that you can now!

So, now after this fun, eventful week we can just sit back and play the waiting game. But don't worry too much about me, folks. I am probably just a neurotic mess suffering from some kind of anxiety disorder... Dr. Not-A-Moron just wants to rule out any other possible causes for my feelings of impending doom, near-loss of consciousness, trouble breathing normally and loss of concentration. But, send me some prayers and positive vibes, just in case :)