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Walmart, the name alone brings a shiver to my spine. I am both repelled and exhilerated at the very thought of my next trip to Walmart. I live in a small town in Texas and the I have to drive at least 35 miles in any direction to even get to a Walmart, so I must plan ahead for my journey.

I arrive at Walmart, list in hand. Of course, I always tell myself that I am going to go into that store, get only what is on my list and then leave. Yeah, right. Walmart has been given a new name by the members of my family, it is called "The Evil Place". No matter how determined I am when I arrive at Walmart, the determination ebbs away fairly rapidly upon entering the brain sucking building! The evil spirit of "On Sale, must buy" will guide you to every department that is not on your list. Of course, if you manage to remember you have a list and even some of the items on it, as you walk slowly towards the correct isle, everything you love to buy just jumps right into your path, you have no where to run. Soon, your little hand held basket is overflowing with candles, movies, clearance clothing and of course the cute little shoes that were on sale. You scope around for an abandoned shopping cart, just to be able to cram more stuff in it. My 15 minute list has now turned into and hour! The "Powers that Be" within the Walmart walls have captivated my mind once again, I walk aimlessly up and down the isles, shelves of 'stuff" calling me by name. Oh, I suppose the rest of the world, who live in towns with malls call it "browsing", but in Wally World, it is called "Can't help myself, gotta keep looking".

My husband calls me on my cell, asking if I was still in the Evil Place and if so, I needed to head for the cashier, quickly. He is quite aware of the spell that falls upon one when you dare to enter the abyss of Walmart. Slowly, I make my way to the registers, wondering how on earth I was going to explain the excess of money I was about to spend. The cashier rings up the sale, Holy Mother I have again, managed to turn a $20.00 list into a $200.00 , another "slap me please" experience. I go slowly out to my car, going over in my head, the explanation that I was prepared to render to my hubby and how I was going to adjust my weekly budget to overcome the evil experience. Again..

Bu the story does not stop there. Oh, no... The Walmart visitations continue weekly. I somehow must get my fix. The worse part of the budget rendering episodes truly begin when the hubby and I go together, each with a little list and the terror begins anew. He goes in one direction and I in another, we vow to meet each other at the check out. An hour later, we are both standing in seperate lines, mentally adding our addictive purchases up in our heads. Instead of a $200.00 journey, it has now turned into bankruptcy. We load the trunk and the back seat with the goodies, each of us vowing never to return. As with any evil addiction, stopping yourself from indulging is much easier said than done. Maybe next week, we can go to counseling or perhaps get an exorcism done on our local store. I bought some annointing oil just in case I happen to drive by one prior to next weekend.. Of course, the cost of the bail money to get me out of jail, due to being arrested as a duranged woman, throwing olive oil all over the doors of Walmart, will not help the budget either. So remember , the next time you go through those doors, you are leaving reality behind to enter "The Evil Place".

Learn more about this author, S. Murray.
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