July 21, 2011
I am shocked
Originally published September 26, 2003
For once in my life, I find myself in total agreement with Sugarmama. I don't like Sam's Club.
I shop at the Super Wal-Mart in Rincon all the time. The place is nice and clean, it has almost everything I want and the "associates" are very friendly. Plus, if I go there often enough, I'll eventually meet everyone I know in Effingham County, sooner or later. EVERYBODY shops at Wal-Mart where I live.
But a Sam's Club can kiss my Cracker ass for several reasons. First of all, I agree with Groucho. I don't want to join any "club" that would have ME as a member. Why the hell does anyone in their right mind PAY for the right to shop in a retail store, anyway? That's just a bumfuck idea as far as I am concerned. They should pay ME to go there, or at least offer some free Ronco products or a set of Ginsu knives to lure me in.
Second, I don't like that Greyhound Bus Station Bathroom ambiance that all Sam's stores offer. I fear that I might catch an incurable venereal disease by handling anything I touch in the place. Therefore, when I am dragged there by crazy friends, I never touch anything, and I take a long, hot shower as soon as I get back home.
Third, I have more teeth than any five random customers combined that you'll find in a typical Sam's Club. When I first moved to Effingham County, we had Dumpster Farms instead of the shitty garbage pickup we have now. You hauled you own damn trash to the farm and hand-tossed it into a dumpster.
But you had to be careful doing that. You might throw a bag of semi-rotten crab-parts right on top of some idiot digging for aluminium cans in the bottom of the trash bin. I called them "Dumpster Divers" back then. When the county hauled the dumpsters off and provided weekly trash pickup, all the divers went to Sam's Club to hang together and talk about the Good Old Days.
Going to Sam's is nothing more than PAYING to go Dumpster Diving.
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