Trashcan Hell!

Wal-Mart's finest merchandise!

For my mother in law’s upcoming birthday she asked for a trashcan. It may sound lame, but she didn’t ask for just any trashcan, she asked for one of those immaculate stainless steel models with the kick pedal. The kind of trashcan you desire to polish up like a nice piece of silverware and put on display for all to see. A trashcan you actually care about cleaning the dried up spaghetti sauce and cereal out of the bottom of, a trashcan that only a person with ridiculous amounts of expendable income would buy.

I’ve always wanted one of these badass trashcans but unfortunately the specific one I want, the same one my mother in law happens to want cost around $80 and there’s no way in hell I’m dropping 80 clams on a trashcan. After all, you throw trash in it.

Because my mother in law is such a special person (how many men can admit that) and even more importantly, because my sister in law offered to go in half with us we decided to spring for one of these awesome trashcans and give it to her for her birthday this year.

Yesterday afternoon we decided to venture out and retrieve the overpriced waste receptacle. The day was shaping up to be awesome! The weather was perfect, sun was shining and I actually wasn’t upset that I was about to spend $40 on a big beautiful household item that I wasn’t going to keep for myself. Things felt right in the world. Our destination was the local Target retail store.

As we were driving down the highway on our way to Target, I noticed we were coming up on Wal-Mart. Normally I’d keep on driving as I hate Wal-Mart but today something was different. I was feeling too damn optimistic.

“Hey sweetheart lets see if they have any of those trashcans at Wal-Mart, they’re usually cheaper on stuff like that.” I said to my wife.

She smiled at me, her eyes full of joy and sunshine and agreed to my plan. We were so happy, so relaxed and so pleased to be buying a trashcan.

So we made our way to the local Wal-Mart and ventured in. This Wal-Mart was a newer store. It was well lit, clean and everything looked fresh. Unlike the Wal-Mart in our home town, the floors were not yet plagued with shopping cart scuff marks and the sidewalks not littered with smashed chewing gum.

Generally I wouldn’t set foot in a Wal-Mart but I was certain this new and apparently improved Wal-Mart would be different. We made our way back to the home storage section to find what we were looking for.

“Wow, $49.99, totally sweet!” I said with excitement.

We had found a comparable trashcan to the one at Target for a whopping $30 less! I took it off the shelf and began inspecting it.

“Oh crap, the lid on this one is busted.” I said to my wife.

“There’s another one behind it.” My wife pointed out.

I retrieved the second trashcan from the shelf only to find that there was a gaping dent in the side of the stainless steel tube.

“Go figure, you find exactly what you’re looking for and they’re both busted!” I said in dissatisfaction.

I took a quick look around and spotted an employee an isle over bent down rummaging though a box, his butt crack shining in the bright fluorescent lights and displayed for the entire world to see.

“Uh, excuse me sir. Do you work in this section?” I asked.

The middle aged, balding man stood up to face me looking almost dumbfounded. I read his scraggly name tag then looked to him for a response but none came too quickly.

“Uh, Jim… do you know who works in this section, can you help me out with these trashcans?” I asked again using his name this time.

Jim looked at me blankly and replied, “No…uh, I don’t know who works over here.”

Jim stood there starting at me blankly like a kid stumped by a difficult math problem they didn’t anticipate encountering on an algebra final exam.

“So… do you know if they have any more of these trashcans in the back?”

By now I’m dieing for some help, but Jim doesn’t disappoint. He lives up to the Wally World standard for outstanding service.

“No, probably not.” He replies. “What we got is probably out on the shelves I’d say.”

And that’s it! No, I’ll check or I’ll see if I can find someone to help you. Then he just stood there and waited until I walked away.

“Alright Jim, thanks for the help.” I said sarcastically and walked away.

I was now fuming and wondered why the hell I even came here. What did I expect out of this place?

Suddenly my view of our surroundings underwent a total metamorphosis. The over optimism I was feeling had cloaked the true nature of this place but now that optimism was gone.

I instantly recognized things that went completely unnoticed just moments before. To my left was a toddler running around in nothing but a diaper, his mother no where to be found. Another woman talking in a deep disgusting southern drawl screamed at her children in broken English a few more isles over.

“Git yer asses back ova here befo I drag ya ins that bathroom and beat yer butts!”

I noticed the trailer trash hotties rummaging around in flocks, all with bleach blond hair, pale legs covered in little bruises and plagued with razor burn wearing their booty shorts displaying slogans like “HOTTIE” across the asses.

Then there was the man with a mouth full of chewing tobacco, unshaven in an unattractive manner, donning a baseball cap and the cut off flannel shirt, toting an old mountain dew bottle for spitting into. He would later stow it away on one of the isles when he was finished with it.

I noticed the over weight black divas working the customer service desk, giving everyone hell and working as slowly as possible and the middle aged white trash bitch who wears her clothes too tight. Her fat rolls popping out over the top of her pants, reminding me of a can of exploded biscuits and a camel toe worthy of being upgraded to the status of moose knuckle.

The store was in shambles, merchandise strewn every which way, 20 cash registers manned by a measly 4 cashiers and a parking lot full of carts. Then I suddenly had a recollection of my last trip to Wal-Mart months ago and why I had sworn then to never return.

During my last visit we were grocery shopping. Amongst the things we were shopping for I had picked up a pack of Italian sausage and placed it in our shopping cart. As we shopped I must have inadvertently brushed my hands across my face, soon after I started smelling the funk.

Sniff…sniif… “Sweetie, do you smell that?” My wife looked at me confused.

“What’s that smell? I asked.

I began sniffing around, sniffing her, myself, our clothing. I turned every which way desperately trying to find the source of this smell.

“What the… you seriously don’t smell that?

Then I began picking up various items in the cart smelling each then putting it back down. That’s when I found the source of the funk, it was the Italian sausage. The sausage possessed an odor I could only describe… as rotten vagina. Yes, I smelled rotten vagina.

“Do you smell that? The sausage smells like rotten vagina! I swear to God it does!” I exclaimed!

My wife took a whiff of the Italian sausage and made a sour face.

“Eeeewwwww, disgusting!” She cried out.

I had solved the mystery. It was my hands that reeked of rotten vagina from touching the rotten sausage and I had wiped it all over my face. That day we left our cart where we stood and fled the store vowing to never return. But today, we broke that vow and boy do we regret it.

Sure, the store is new, bright and modern. But none of that matters if you’re going to have to deal with douche bags like the Wal-Mart all-star Jim and packages of meat that reek of rotten vagina.

We made our way to Target afterwards and things immediately got better. Target actually have several more trashcans to pick from, they were a bit more expensive but guess what? None were dented and we even had two employees just randomly ask us if we needed help while visiting the store! And I bet if there were none on the shelf someone would have checked in the back for another for us!

The employees at Target looked cheerful and most of the women that worked at Target were actually pretty decent looking. And let’s not forget the clientèle that visits Target vs. Wal-Mart. Target is a Mecca of hot chicks and milfs! You already know what I encountered at Wal-Mart.

Bottom line is, I visit Target and get what I want. The women that shop there are hot and I leave with a little pep in my step ready to go home and make sweet love to my wife. I visit Wal-Mart and I leave impotent, frustrated and a nervous wreck.

In conclusion I’d like to say, Happy Birthday my dear mother in law! I hope you appreciate all the hell we went through to get you this damn $80 trashcan!