Walmart

Please don't get me started on Walmart. Please please please.

Well, I really can't say 'no' to that unamused stare.

Today I visited Walmart to buy some 409 cleaner since I like to keep my jars of hair clean. As I passed the Babies' Section, a cd sampler was playing Tunes for Toddlers and I heard the most obnoxiously cute rendition of I'm a Little Walmart Brand Teapot. Through the haze of pain I felt from suddenly receiving 7 new cavities, I realized what the song--or shall I say, the ambience of the song--was trying to do to me.

Toddler Tunes was trying to control me.

Let me explain. This wasn't like regular music. When I worked at Walmart, me and another kid who worked in the Hardware department always punched the 'Disco' button as we passed by the cd sampler and 'It's Raining Men' promptly played. We did this 15 times a day, much to the displeasure of the older woman who worked with candles one aisle over but we didn't mind. It's hard to feel a frown when you're shaking your booty. That was a good song. The only thing that song controlled was my boogie.

Toddler Tunes was different. Behind those plastic pink voices had been a large collaboration of disturbed adults willing to gurgle sunshine into a microphone and patent it. Walmart then sold this sunshine and helped their standing as a "Green" company, which I suppose is true: the smiles of most employees are recycled.

The point I'm getting at here is that such cutesy music, for that brief brief instant in time before I succumbed to diabetes, made me relaxed and, God forbid, a little happy. What disturbed me the most is that this should happen in Walmart, the one place I swore to hate. The one company I have in fact boycotted. The one business that is so ingenious and twisted in its concept that it is a surprise that it did not come from Japan.

And then it hit me: counting this trip and several others before it, going to Walmart had not bothered me one bit.

The fluorescent white ceiling reeled above me as I collapsed into a display of Christmas sodas. I had, in my acquiescence, approved of the existence of a soulless and major corporation intent only on profit, lying, and slapping me in the face with its remarkably low prices (Always low prices. Always). Not only had I given the thumbs-up for the continuous destruction of the earth and the human spirit, I had given the thumbs-up to Walmart. It would be like hugging the orca who ate my parents (I briefly led the life of a seal, but that's a story for another day).

A Walmart executive enjoys his average weekend.

A mousy-looking girl shook me awake. I was briefly pleased (her scalp looked as if it had a possible contribution to a particular jar of hair) before I saw the navy shirt, the tan pants, and the red, white, and blue name tag. She couldn't have been older than 17 years.

"Dear God," I said. "They're starting them young."

"Are you all right?" she asked, helping me onto my feet.

"Those are the training videos talking," I told her, gripping her shoulders. "Now where is the backroom?"

"In the back...?"

I frowned at the EMPLOYEES ONLY doors nearby. "Those tricky bastards."

I flung the girl away and marched through the doors (splitting the Toddler Tunes cd sampler with a single punch as I passed). In the hallway inside a balding man looked up from his clipboard in front of the employee announcement board. Our eyes locked. I immediately knew he was a ninja.

He threw his clipboard at me like a shuriken and I dodged it and knocked him out with Cold Prairie Dog Style I had learned from Shaolin monks. I quickly sought for a gateway that would lead me to the evil mastermind of Walmart. As is common knowledge, most evil corporate entity's are connected through a series of wormholes and rifts powered by sheer greed and despair. It's kind of like The Matrix, except instead of soulless machines are soulless people.

The gateway of evil, as I suspected, was through the women's restroom down the hallway and just out of the bathroom again. I instinctively knew this since women's restrooms are forbidden places and they carry the malice that is inherent to all women (but you knew this already).

Through the gateway was a labyrinth of hallways that looked as if they belonged in an old Scottish castle, except if everyone in this Scotland was dead and their corpses were all listening to Lady Gaga on repeat. I used my sense of smell and found the throne room inside which the pinnacle of evil, the spirit of Walmart, waited for me to vanquish it.

I kicked down the heavy oak doors and drew my nun-chucks. A little white girl in a Christmas dress sat on the throne. Her swaying feet didn't even reach the floor.

"Hello, Nicholas," she said. "We've been waiting for you."

"I've come here to vanquish you, Walmart," I told the little girl. "Your innocent facade will not dissuade me."

"Vanquish us?" she cupped one rosy cheek in her hand and gave me a pitiful expression that would turn a Rottweiler's nails into Peeps. "But, Nicholas, if you did that, who would sell you those ridiculously low-priced fabrics you use for sewing?"

"Who told you I sewed?" I demanded.

"You did. Just now."

I gripped my nun-chucks tighter. I would have to be careful with this one.

"We know you're a man of principles, Nicholas," she said, drawing something from under her dress, "so we shall not call this a bribe. We shall call this a gift, between friends." In her well-manicured palm was, dear God, an iPhone. "You like iPhones, don't you, Nicholas?"

"N-no!" I said. "That's an Apple product, I would never stoop so low. Those are for hipsters and conformists."

"Hm? We're sorry, say again? We were too busy chatting on facebook and holding a conversation with our dear grandmother at the same time. Oh, look, everyone in the United States is our friend. Even Tom. Especially Tom." A tall latte floated near her, caressing her free hand. "And, look. A peppermint latte, just in season. And it's Starbucks, too. You like Starbucks, don't you, Nicholas? Would you care for a sip?"

"Succubus!" I fumbled for my crucifix (it had helped immensely in the Vampire Mardi Gras incident of '62). "Lies and slander! I would never support such a big corporation!"

"Is that so? Is that why you're wearing those deliciously fashionable Converse sneakers? Or, my, is that jacket from the Old Navy? Oh, I recognize those pants, Levis, correct? Unless you strip yourself here and resign yourself to live alone in the wild, you will never be free from corporations."

But I had already tried that. I had ended up crazy. And not just crazy--naked crazy.

I still held onto some hope. "B-but, Walmart, you treat your employees like crap and drive out small businesses with your low prices. I can't support you or your ilk. As a human being, it is my duty to be offended by such a notion."

She captured my stunned expression with the camera on her iPhone. "That's capitalism, baby. And it doesn't matter how much you whine or reason, we're here to stay. We could burn countries out and collapse empires, but unless you make an effort to change your economical reliance on me, unless you control your desire and greed in order to instead support your beloved small businesses, why, don't complain. Save the world or savor it. Now which option do you think your fellow human being is more likely to choose? Which option will your fellow human being always choose? You don't have to like us, Nicholas. But you do have to accept the fact that we're here and people choose to enjoy our presence, even if they do know better. And they'll always know better. Always."

I dropped my nun-chucks. I had been defeated by a little girl in a Christmas dress.

The employees found me screaming about low prices in one of the women's bathroom stalls. At first they weren't certain as to whether they should leave me be or not--sure, I was frightening and splashing half my face in a toilet bowl, but I was effective advertisement. Eventually I gathered my wits, coolly collected myself in front of the mirrors, and then left to checkout aisle 9 where I would glower at the cashier as if he had personally made sure the Cinnamon Pecan Swirl scented candles had been priced so attractively.

Y'know, I learned something today. No matter how much I complain about Walmart, it is here to stay, for better or for worse. A corporation is only as big as the support you give it, even if you pretend otherwise. Pick a side and stick with it. If you disapprove of Walmart, boycott it forever. But if you are an average person, don't complain.

I like Walmart, the iPhone, and Starbucks. I'm Nicholas Garret Kirkland. And I am a consumer whore.