WALMART

I head into WALMART. I grab a carriage. As soon as I walk through the door I realize it's a broken carriage and the wheels squeak and when I push it, the damn thing veers to the left so I have to keep lifting it up to make it go straight. I only need a few things so I decide to keep it and head toward the produce section to buy some fruit. The place is PACKED. I'm claustrophobic. I try not to make eye-contact with anyone but it's difficult because people are EVERYWHERE. A family of like, TEN (exaggeration- more like, five) decide to stop in the middle of an aisle and play with the stuffed animals and the skateboards and bicycles. I wait for them to notice me, and hopefully move aside. No such luck. I decide to take a different route. I lift up my carriage and turn around. There's an old lady right up my ASS with a carriage full of toilet paper and tissues and DEPENDS and all sorts of old-people shit and she looks at me with DEATH in her eyes so I turn back around to the family and say, "I'm sorry, I'm going to squeeze by, if that's okay..."
This, apparently, pisses off the mother. She gets in my face, (like we did in High School) and she says, "You gotta problem with my kids?"
I'm speechless because her question MADE NO SENSE WHATSOEVER. 
"You ain't got no right talkin' to my kids like that!"
Huh?
Without thinking I say, "I love your kids! They're adorable!" Which makes even less sense than what she said but I didn't feel like getting into a brawl so, I turn back around again and say to the old bag, "Please take your carriage out of my ASS so I can back up." (I didn't really say that, but I wanted to.) Instead I say, "Please let me back up because APE-WOMAN won't move and my Bi-Polar side is emerging. I might have to start killing people."
I didn't say that, either. But I wanted to.
Instead, I say, "MOVE IT."
She moves right away.
I finally make it to the produce section. It's a traffic jam. I pick up a pint of strawberries and turn them over. At least three or four of the strawberries are moldy. I pick up another one. Same thing. I go through EVERY SINGLE FUCKING PINT OF STRAWBERRIES and they all have three of four with mold on them. I don't get that? Are the employees told to put a few moldy ones in every pint? Can't they pack at least one or two pints with all good strawberries? 
I move over to the blueberries.There's one pint left. I reach for it. A giant hand shoots in front of me and grabs the last one.
"I was here first!" An angry voice shouts at me.
I turn around to see a half-human, half PRIMATE hovering over me.
"Sure- no problem." 
(Long pause) I move on. Cucumbers are next. I pick up every single cucumber, but they're all soft. I hate that.
I look at the lettuce selection. Most of the lettuce is already turning brown. Grrrr...
I head over to the candy aisle. There are 500 people in it. Screw the candy.
I head over to the bagel section. There's a guy frantically grabbing bags of bagels and throwing them in his cart. How weird. Is he on speed? All I want is one bag of blueberry bagels. I reach over to grab one.
"DON'T TOUCH IT! I'M TAKING ALL OF THE BLUEBERRY BAGELS!" He tosses me a bag of Onion bagels. I hate Onion bagels. 
"I don't want the Onion bagels. I just want one package of Blueberry. You have... " I counted. "Twelve bags of blueberry bagels in your cart. Could I have just one?"
"No! They're all mine!"
Fuck this shit. I don't feel like dealing with Crack-Head, so I move on. Damn. WALMART can be a dangerous place to shop.
My carriage is still empty, so I decide to leave. What a waste of time.
On my way out, I remember I need cat litter. Shit. I'm all out. Mafia needs something to poop in, or she'll take a shit in my closet again.
I reluctantly push my retarded carriage, (sorry, politically incorrect) my defective carriage, in the direction of the pet aisle. 
"Come here you little shit! Put that down!" A woman with purple hair and a giant hoop through her nose is screaming at her little brat, who is running around the store with a size Double-D bra on his head. I'm feeling nauseous. The claustrophobia is reaching a near-panic level.
Finally, I find the cat litter. The aisle is so crowded my head starts spinning and I feel like I'm going to puke.
"GET ME OUT OF HERE!" I scream at the top of my lungs. I start shoving people out of my way. I see the old lady who tried to push her carriage up my ass.  "She must have cats," I think to myself.  I punch her and she falls into a candy display. Bags of candy fall on the floor. A truckload of little brats dive in and grab pieces of candy. I run them over with my carriage. Mothers come running, screaming for help. The kids are bleeding and the old lady is gasping for air. I think she's having a heart attack.
"Can you tell me where the vacuums are located?" A normal-looking girl snaps me out of my daydream.
"Aisle seventeen, halfway down on the left." I don't bother to tell her I'm not an employee. I don't care. I grab the cat litter and head to the checkout lines.
MOTHER OF GOD. It's like being at Gillette Stadium to see a Patriots game. I find a short line with only two people in front of me. SCORE! I can't believe it. I'll be out of here in five minutes! The cashier is scanning each item in slow motion. I feel like I'm in Walmart HELL.
I decide to ditch the cat litter and get the F out of there. I'd rather Mafia take a shit in my closet than be in Walmart anymore.