Now that's what I call a big store

Oh boy!
Walmart.

Apparently, a word that strikes fear into the heart of the average local American. Nevertheless, for my first outing into the bustling metropolis of downtown Seattle, Walmart was the destination. It's the equivilent of K-Mart or Target, with a subtle added stench of redneck poor. It has the advantage of being relatively cheap and thus useful for those of us who have left all financial responsibility in our respective marriages and need to re-equip a household.

Everything comes in sizes that range from large to ginormous and the shopping carts are big enough to match. Its the sort of place where you can purchase a plasma tv or a specialised implement for dehulling strawberries, with a side foray into the world of perfume that comes in two gallon bottles.

Its very crowded and I have to try and remember to drive the trolley on the RHS of the extremely crowded aisles.

(As an aside, that's very un-nerving anyway, the whole traffic on the wrong side of the road thing. I am likely to kill myself when crossing the street so I hold on to an arm whenever we are walking in traffic and get sort of steered. Unfortunately, to my jetlagged senses it feels exactly like I'm being deliberately walked into oncoming traffic so I flinch and try to pull away. I've found the perfect solution now, though: I just shut my eyes and that way it works. It's kind of interesting being pulled across a 4 way intersection blind.)

Walmart trolley etiquette is apparently that anything goes if you pretend to be polite enough; saying 'Excuse me Sir' as you ram your way past Bubba whose 300 pound girth gets visciously jabbed by the trolley because he can't suck it in enough is apparently enough to excuse hostile behaviour.

Most of the staff in Walmart appear to be taken from some of the disabled workshops and shelters around and about. They are called "Associates" rather than employees and some of their behaviour can be hysterically funny. The girl who visibly rolled her eyes when we asked her which aisle bookcases could be found in, and then sprinted half away across the store to show us, was a personal favourite. I also liked the signs everywhere: "Associates (and customers) are politely requested not to climb the steel shelving".

All due credit to Walmart for hiring like this as a company policy, though.

We seem to have been back to Walmart a lot lately. We needed a bookcase, which was supposed to be one of the few non-personal items taken from his previous place. But apparently, its more of the same treatment - agree to something and then renege, because we deserve nothing less, due to our dreadful behaviour. Suitably chastened by this severe treatment, we then made our way back to Walmart to purchase a bookcase.

Tomorrow's Walmart expedition has a shopping list of wrapping paper, boots (for me - mine are not suitable for the wet around here. Seriously, I saw a car today that had moss growing all over it!), a digital camera and coffee. I cannot live any further without a camera so that I can post pictures of the most unlikely things to you all, my captive audience.

Walmart is great if I really want to laugh. My companion is very tolerant of the fact that I will be laughing like an idiot every 5 mins on average and merely bides his time. If he feels like explaining away my lunatic behaviour to anyone else, he excuses it by merely saying "She's from Australia", in the exact tone of voice that indicates I too could be an Associate at Walmart.