Mugged by the Right

The other day I was shopping for some simple yet interesting gifts that I could mail my friend back home fore her birthday. I drove to this smoke shop that I thought might have some marijuana paraphernalia that would be small enough to mail and cool enough to distract her from the relative cheapness of the gift. In any event, the smoke shop turned out to be the old fashioned kind that only sold cigars and fancy lighters. I was about ready to give up my search until I stumbled upon one of those strange stores that sell odd bric-a-brac for young people with money to burn. Being one such young person, I entered the store. I was pleased to find some political buttons that I was sure my friend would like. Unlike myself, she is comfortable in the clothes and attire of the laisser-faire protester. I knew she would proudly don buttons with slogans like “Iraq is Arabic for Vietnam”, while not being so wrapped up in the war to already be sporting 20 such buttons. The point is; if she were that waitress from Office Space, she would gladly sport these as part of her flair. So, I happily took some of these buttons as well as other mildly amusing gewgaws to the counter to purchase. The middle-aged woman behind the cash register took one look at my buttons and quickly decided that I was one of those young radicals who must make up a substantial percentage of her clientele. She saw that Iraq button and proclaimed “well isn’t that the truth”. It was, but I did not like how quickly I had fallen into a political discussion. The next thing I knew we were talking about Hilary’s chances in ’08 and that new Air America station. I quickly acquiesced to her left wing views, which was harder that I anticipated, because I actually shared them. Deep down I’m an old lefty too. So why was it so hard for me to be as enthusiastic about it as she was? The reason became quite apparent to me as I left the store. I simply don’t respect liberals. I mean I like them well enough. They’re cool people who are generally tolerant and easygoing. And yet I still consider them to be naïve and obtuse. They talk and make fine points about politics and human nature, but to steal an easy quote, they’re all sounds and fury signifying nothing. They have been losing the war for the hearts and minds of America for 25 years now and it is only getting worse. I mean nobody respects a loser even if he is a really nice guy. In my opinion, there are many reasons for the death of liberalism but there is one that bothers me more than all the rest of them, liberal politicians, and even their supporters, are largely wimps. Now this is not just Rush Limbaugh and Anne Coulter talking. Case in point, Al Gore. Here was a guy who was running on the heels of one of the most popular presidents in American history and he lost. Why? Because he was afraid to be what he really was. In his drive for votes and popularity, Gore positioned himself as a moderate. His fear of being labeled a soft lefty or a bleeding heart liberal, made him look weak and heartless. This kind of behavior is pandemic in leftist politics. This is why I didn’t care about what that old hippie woman had to say about Hilary Clinton. I know that unless someone truly inspiring comes out of that mess called the Democratic Party, the battle is already lost.

shop at Target

Today I did the unthinkable again and bought something at Wal-Mart. Man I fucking hate Wal-Mart. I don’t hate Wal-Mart because of their unethical business practices, or the fact that they put local mom and pop retail operations out of business. Wal-Mart could lobby to restart the baby seal hunt and I wouldn’t give a damn. I hate Wal-Mart because it is the most unpleasant shopping experience in the history of manufactured goods.

There are actually many reasons why shopping at Wal-Mart is worse than being sodomized by an elephant tusk. For starters, the store is huge. Now this is great when you want to buy 100 different things, but it’s incredibly frustrating when you have to spend half and hour looking for a roll of toilet paper (don’t ask). Not to mention the fact that the staff are so horribly overworked that no one is available to direct you through Wal-Mart’s mazes of plastic crap from China. Those stacked aisles and the hordes of low-income minorities give Wal-Mart the appearance of a Turkish bazaar. I half-expect Indiana Jones to pop out and shoot somebody every time I push my way past a line of poor people. Usually I get by them before I have to listen to long debates about the quality of 2-dollar knives.

Another reason why shopping at Wal-Mart is less fun than listening to an entire Garth Brooks CD is the ridiculous amount of time spent in the check-out line. The only way to even slightly reduce the time spent waiting in line is to pick the right cashier. It is absolutely essential that you use the line manned by the exploited teenager rather than the line in front of the exploited elderly person. Wal-Mart loves to pretend it cares about people by hiring old folks who can no longer buy their medicine with social security checks. Who but a corporation spawned in Hell would put granny to work and call it a good deed. I wouldn’t actually care about how wrong this was if these old, decrepit hags could put things in bags faster. It takes like 20 minutes for them to get through 2 people. Not to mention the fact that old people love to talk to customers because their children don’t love them anymore. I mean if their kids gave a damn, they wouldn’t let their parents work at Wal-Mart, would they? This means every time I go there I have to listen to chitchat at the cash register and be greeted by some old fart getting paid minimum wage just to bother me.

Now, an astute person might wonder why I went to Wal-Mart if I hate it so much. The answer: I am cheap bastard.

Oh and I’m sorry if my rant was a little too misanthropic. Wal-Mart brings out the worst in me.