I know it is not politically correct to shop at Walmart. The store employs embryos in third world countries to make its clothing. It forces its vendors to accept ridiculously low prices for their products, forcing them to use substandard materials. The store treats its employees like shit. And as uncouth as it may be, every now and then I sneak into Walmart.
There is a Walmart two minutes from my house. The nearest grocery stores are 10 minutes away. Not a long distance I know, but if I just need milk and bread, I want a quickie. And sometimes when I’m down to my last penny, I know I can buy some food at Walmart for cheaper than I can anywhere else.
When I sneak into Walmart, I look around for people with cameras, not wanting to get caught and posted on the People of Walmart site. I am afraid I will run into one of my Twitter friends who I know in real life. Then it occurs to me that like a Mormon running into a liquor store to buy gifts for their heathen friends and running into their bishop, I know that if I run into a friend, they too are being un-politically correct and feeding the nasty horrible beast.
The worst part of being in a Walmart? Getting dizzy and sick. The bigger the store, the bigger the chance that my mystery illness will kick in. Even worse is the knowledge that if it came right down to it and I needed the money to feed my daughter, I wouldn’t be physically able to be a Walmart greeter. That my friends, sucks.
