Why I hate Walmart

 I stopped in around five yesterday to pick up a prescription. Simple errand. In and out. I grabbed a few other things and headed to the front to check out.

There was one register open. One young man cashing, another bagging. The lane next to them had the light on, but no one was there. So I got in line behind the person already checking out. Someone else lined up behind me.

Then a third person walked right up to the empty lane, unloaded his stuff, and—like magic—the bagger suddenly became a cashier. He walked over, rang that man up, and never once looked at me or said, “I can take you over here.” Nothing. Just… poof, new lane for someone else.

While I was still waiting, the cashier in my lane pulled out his phone and fired off a quick text. Right in the middle of the transaction. No attempt to hide it.

My turn finally came. He had an earbud in, singing along to whatever he was listening to. No hello. No eye contact. No acknowledgment that I was an actual customer standing there paying for my things. Just scanning and humming like he was in his own world.

By the time I walked out, I was grumpy enough to bite through steel. And all I could think was: this is exactly why I hate Walmart.

But the universe must’ve decided I needed a reset, because as I was leaving—still grumbling to myself—I saw a duck herding her little ducklings away from the road and back toward the pond. Just this determined mama waddling her babies to safety. And I’ll be honest: it made me smile in spite of myself. A tiny reminder that the world isn’t all earbuds and bad customer service.