This place is much like Mos Eisley -- A wretched hive of scum and villany. If I could give it a negative rating, I would. I long to win some historic Powerball jackpot for the sole intention of relentlessly persecuting this hideously-run, useless cesspool until it is condemned and razed, at which point I will dance a gleeful jig amid the rubble before emptying my bladder thereupon.
When we first moved to the area, I was dismayed to find that Super Target was a bit further away than this glorified toilet, but I decided to give it a chance. I mean, not everyone can be a Publix or a Trader Joe's, right?
But as time progressed and I found myself visiting this steaming pile of manure on a more frequent basis, I began to notice things. I noticed that when they would run out of a product, months would pass and it would never reappear. Now, these weren't some obscure items that may have been unpopular and therefore replaced with better choices. This was Crest toothpaste, Borden half and half, Walmart's own brand of paper plates, etc. I would buy something once and never find it available again.
A disappointingly large percentage of their merchandise has no price displayed, and most of the employees have no idea how much anything costs. I once discovered a remarkably decent looking set of pajamas hanging on a clearance rack with no discounted price, and approached a nearby worker who was scanning various items with one of handheld devices. I asked her, politely, if she could check the price as the item was on the clearance rack but had no clearance sticker. She grabbed the tag with the full price printed on it, held it up, and in a sarcastic tone, said, "$14.98", as if I was unable to read that myself. I explained that the item was on a clearance rack with other such items, and again asked if she could check to see how much it rang up for. She proceeded to say, and I quote, "The clearance racks are for the highest priced items." Puzzled, I replied, "So... these aren't on sale?" "No; they're listed for the highest price." Feeling as though I'd stepped into an episode of the Twilight Zone, I decided to take the pajamas to a register and see how much they rang up for. $2.00. And all that lazy sack of refuse would have had to do to see that would have been to hold up the scanner and press a button. Two seconds tops.
I once made the mistake of trying to have a key made only to wait for at least half an hour as numerous employees wandered past, explaining that it was some other employee who was supposed to be making keys, but never once bothering to find or alert said employee that a customer was waiting.
They allow cable and phone companies to station obnoxious, hard-selling sleazebags in front of the electronics department, who stop you in the middle of your errand to pitch their expensive product, even when you explain that you are happy with your current service/not interested, or when your toddler is crying hysterically because she's afraid of their overbearing presence and pleading to get away.
Finally, I experienced something that will forever keep me out of ANY Walmart for the rest of my days. My child was sick in the middle of the night and I rushed to this 100,000 square foot outhouse to grab some supplies. I arrived to find that they had shut down EVERY SINGLE REGISTER with the exception of ONE self checkout, and the line of customers waiting ran nearly the entire depth of the building's interior. Numerous employees leaned casually on various surfaces, chatting aimlessly as these people waited in a line one would expect to find at Disney World to pay for their low quality, dwindling selection of items.
NEVER AGAIN. Are you there, Target? It's me, Cealdi. Please save us from this abhorrent dung-geode and set up shop here instead. We need you! read more