Yesterday was laundry day, so I went by a cleaners to drop off some things at their wash and fold and get a pair of pants pressed. The first one couldn’t get anything back till Tuesday. The next had a 10-pound or $30 minimum for wash and fold. As I asked about wash and fold, the owner shook his head, looking at my pillowcase full of clothes. In a thick oriental accent, he explained it wouldn’t be worth it. $30 to wash seven undies, undershirts, and a few socks seemed excessive. So I took the cheaper route, left my pants to be pressed, and just went and bought new undies, again!
I skipped Target, which is closer, but I needed a Walmart to get the brand I wanted. Maybe it’s just the 80s Fruit of the Loom commercials from my childhood, but that brand is my jam! I try to, at all costs, stay away from intercity Walmarts. This was a typical one; I could have cut the marijuana smell with a knife when I walked in. I got a few things, then perused the undies, which were under lock and key! I asked for assistance from the employee in the next aisle. After her third repeat in very broken English, I finally understood that she was telling me to push the button. I waited impatiently for some else who spoke less English than the other lady to get my underwear and tank tops.
We have a Walmart Plus membership, so I used Scan and Go, where you scan the items with the app and then pay via your phone. So I scanned them and put them in the basket. After much back and forth with both employees, I finally understood they had to take the valuable assets to the front for me. I went up front, and nothing, so I spoke with the self-checkout lady, nothing. Then a manager, still nothing.
After getting perturbed, I returned to menswear to a group discussing undies with a manager. To make a long story short, after the manager told me the problem was that the employee didn’t speak English, I exploded! I was like no joke, I live on the border and could have an easier time there! The manager wanted to explain things; I aggressively said I didn’t live there, was never coming back, and didn’t care; I just wanted to buy underwear and leave! It could have been a sitcom scene! I had a good laugh telling the story later. But I must still be mad; Amanda just asked why I was mad typing!
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