Walmart is da bomb!

My mother sent me a newspaper clipping about a Walmart store in Quebec that evacuated all the customers after a bomb threat was called in but had the employees stay to look for suspicious packages. The article said that several of the employees found the experience traumatic. I think I would find it relaxing. Being in a potentially life threatening situation would be a fair trade off for an hour or so of peace from the customers, their unruly children, stupid questions and unreasonable requests.

"I'm going to Sobeys" is now code for "I'm quitting" in our Walmart fashion department. That's the last thing our co-worker Dominic said as he left for his 15 minute break. We never saw him again. The manager didn't believe us when we told him and seemed more concerned that the remaining 4 of us weren't working hard enough. Dominic's sudden departure made a lot more work for me, but I salute him and his final fuck you to Walmart. It warms my heart to know that I work in a place where if you mysteriously disappear during your coffee break everyone just assumes you quit. God forbid you should be lying bloody and beaten in a ditch somewhere.

Due to our depleted workforce, the store was in a disastrous state when I went into work on Sunday. I knew the manager would ask me to stay longer so I made a point of staying out of his way. With 15 minutes left of my shift, I heard the jingling of his keys so I ducked into a more obstructed aisle and hid behind a table. I did this very quietly, having just removed my shoes figuring I may have to make a stealthy escape. He paused near where I was hiding as if he sensed my presence but there's no way he could have seen me. He continued on his way and it took me a minute or two to realize that my shoes were gone and that he had taken them. Fortunately I found them soon after in the shoe department. It is possible that he didn't notice that they were expensive Clarks of England shoes, the likes of which we don't sell at a shithole like Walmart or, more obviously, that they were worn. Or he may just be messing with me, in which case I'm extremely embarrassed.

I continue to be unimpressed with the heartiness of my colleagues. Those who don't quit are always leaving early with mystery ailments. Yesterday Leanne who I work with put on a terrific show for the manager with real tears and complaints of nausea. So that big whiner got to go home. As soon as she left, I began feeling sick myself. An hour later I was certain I was deathly ill. I bought a thermometer during my lunch break. I figured my temperature would be about 102, maybe even 103. It was 98.1. How disappointing! Having no hard evidence that I was sick and lacking the acting skills of Miss Crybaby McGoHome, I felt obligated to stay. There's probably some horrible fungus poisoning us all. A lawsuit might be the only way to get decent money out of Walmart.