WAL*MART TO FOREIGNERS

There's a wonderful place called WAL*MART.
     A huge (square footage of) land where all your dreams (including the bed... well, almost) come true.
     Where interesting fairy-like people dressed in blue or green vests, t-shirts or aprons attend to your every need (“hi, welcome to WAL*MART”).
     A place that houses so much indulgence under one roof, folks have tried to get locked inside... until they realized that it was open 24 hours.
     Now, to Americans this airy-fairy version of WAL*MART is probably a load of nonsense, especially to those that like to spend their Monday mornings holding up protest signs outside and scowling disapprovingly as one walks or drives in.
     I'm from England you see and we don't have much in the way of indulgence warehouses and foreigners like me can always be spotted in grocery stores by that unmistakable “gang of lost souls” look we all wear after the first step inside.
     Please be patient though when you see one at your local store either:

          * Wondering around in a daze, heading in no specific direction.

          * Stopped smack dab in the middle of the freezer aisle, mesmerized by the huge tubs of ice cream.
          * Carefully examining the oversize packets of everything from potato chips to milk, trying to figure out if there really is that much in there or just exaggerated packaging.

You see, I used to be a member of this ridiculous drool brigade... alright I still am but I have gotten smart about it by tagging along to someone who is immune to the trap that only WAL*MART virgins fall into.

     Going to WAL*MART for foreigners is like trying to explain what the Blue Man Group is actually about:

     You can't, you simply have to experience it!

Ella Roberts,

www.ellaswit.blogspot.com