pardon my offensiveness

There are two places I loathe and avoid like the plague: Wal-Mart and the Commissary. I had to visit both today. I'm sure I'm about to piss some people off, but as an American, I'm just as entitled to my opinion as any other jask-ass out there, and since this is MY blog, I'm going to give my two cents.

We all know why Wal-Mart is bad. I don't even need to explain my trip. Just go on over to http://www.peopleofwalmart.com and that really says it all. they draw you in with there cheap ass prices, but think about it America, is it really worth it?

So I shall tell a tale of the Commissary, since this is an experience so many of my civilian friends miss out on. It's similar to Wal-Mart in many ways, yet uniquely military, in that it's an on post(or base) grocery store. For the past year, I've avoided doing my shopping there,mostly because I was never really on post much, and well, I HATE going. But I have to admit the prices are great, and I've noticed they now carry some harder-to-find items I keep on my list ( I love you Terra chips and Fage). Dammit. So today, after the gym, I took my trusty coupon organizer, small grocery list and weekly menu on over to the suckiest place on earth, and let me tell you, I was not left disappointed. As soon as I pulled into the parking lot, my regret hit me: CASE LOT SALE. Ugh. Case lot sale is a tent in the parking lot where you can buy bulk items (a la Costco). The MilSpouse does love cases of canned peas and whatnot. What does this mean to me? Crappy parking in an already crappy parking lot. I usually park in the outskirts anywhoo, to avoid being backed into, or backing over an unsupervised child, but the case lot sale means more people lolly-gagging in the aisles, and blocking to driveway. Grrr. Once inside, though a calm came over me when I noticed that, although the parking lot was a nightmare, the actual store was quiet. Nice. Another plus: the usually grody-looking produce looked fairly un-grody. "Maybe I've been too hard on the old Commissary" , I thought to myself and just as I was checking out the nectarines it happened; the shrill scream of a preschooler, followed by a bag of marshmallows being thrown in the face of his elementary school brother, followed by elementary school brother screaming "KNOCK IT OFF!!!", followed by out-to-here preggers mom yelling "ENOUGH!!".
I would love to say that this was just an isolated incident, and the rest of my now rushed shopping experience was pleasant, but alas, this wouldn't really be a blog worthy story now would it?
So it seemed that out-to-here preggers mom with three unruly boys ( all under 7 I would say) and I were on the same shopping path. Crap. I actually skipped three aisles, just to meet up with them in the frozen section, hearing her yell down each row for her children to behave, not to hit, and to keep their hands to themselves. I skillfully dodged tater tots being torn out of moms hands and tossed at, not to, young toddler in cart. Did she even acknowledge me? Of course not. I realized two things in that moment: 1.)Thank God I don't have to take my kids to the grocery store with me anymore and 2.) When did manners become passe`?
Before you get all judgmental on me, I realize kids act up. They whine and ask for things they know they can't have. No kid I know enjoys the grocery errand. This situation was beyond that. Several people in the store made comments about mom yelling and threatening. She wasn't quiet about it. And whatever she was saying was falling on deaf ears anyhow.
Of course, this is only one of the reasons i dislike the Commissary. But it happens EVERY TIME I go. And other times, I will run in to some random spouse who dislikes me, of course, when I look my worst. Or a spouse who likes me, but I avoid because i didn't feel the love connection. Or I have to slowly snake through aisle after aisle of snails pace rascal driver, high heeled hoochie mamma dressed for trickin'(who needs to shop for perishables in a fox fur, mesh shirt and leather mini?) and family of 8 with three shopping carts. Then once I'm done gathering my edibles, I get to wait in line for a number to be called,show my ID, ask for paper and then pay an older than dirt Korean grandma to haul my heavy ass basket to my car so she can earn a tip to support her retired American soldier,
Yeah, fine, I'm a bitch for wanting to get in and out of the store with my cart full of items and no headache. I'm not proud of my thoughts during these adventures, which is why I avoid going in the first place. Alas, I have to budget like everyone else, and at least it's not Wal-Mart.