The Wal-Mart Predicament

Disappointed, but not surprised. That's how I'm feeling after a rough experience at the local Super Wal-Mart last night.

I had mistakenly left my debit card and driver's license at my office on Thursday, and with the storm of doom passing over on Thursday night causing me to forgo any attempt at getting back to Dubuque at all, I debated shopping at Wal-Mart at all. But, I did have my checkbook, and in a moment of nostalgia, thought that I could actually use it as money. Scoff.

So, Friday night, I trudge out into the night, checkbook(only) in hand. I meandered the store for over an hour shopping for mainly groceries, but a few things that will remain undisclosed and proceeded to the checkout line. This is where everything went down.

After ringing up all my items, bagging them up, placing them back into my cart, I handed the cashier my check. She puts in through the little magic money machine and it kicks it back asking for a driver's license. I politely, and a little sheepishly let the lady know that I didn't have it. She let me know that I needed to show it or I couldn't pay with a check. And this point, I am flustered, to say the least. Tears are welling in my eyes, but I'm trying to remain calm. There are people behind me three carts deep, some of whom I think I recognize. I begin to quietly plead. "Ma'am, this check is all I have with me. I have nearly $100 worth of stuff here. I shop here frequently. Isn't there any way to pay with this check?" Now, I understand that I have a tendency to over exaggerate when storytelling, but today, I will stick to the facts. The cashier literally threw her hands up in the air and said, "I cannot override the computer system. There is nothing else I can do!" Refusing to let tears fall, but sounding and looking shaken, I ask to see a manager and was met with the response, "It won't do any good. They can't override the computers either."

I told her then, in a moment of desperation, that I could go get payment because I would still like to buy my groceries, but it would take me more than an hour since I would have to go and get it from Dubuque. I pointed out frozen items that I didn't want to go bad. She pushed the cart out of the way and told me, "I'll take care of it." I look around one last time hoping to find some salvation from the embarrassment I was in then pretty much ran to the doors.

I called Mom, a natural reaction to any uncomfortable situation, by now definitely crying, to which she responds, "Get back in there and demand to talk to someone. This is ridiculous. I'll pay for them over the phone..." (continued ranting on the phone). I walked back in, wiping tears, trying to act brave, Mom still on the phone, and walked to the Customer Service counter. Thankfully, one of my old student workers from fabulous UWP. I went straight to her, explained what had happened, pointed out the crabby cashier, and she said, "Oh, well, we can just take your social security number. No big deal."

Seriously? The solution was that simple? Oh, but the saga continues. They had to search a bit to find my cart, but it showed up at Customer Service, and I overheard the manager say to my friend, "Oh, she told me to get rid of this stuff." She had aborted the purchases rather than pausing it, and "took care of it" all right. I was gone all of 30 seconds, and in another minute or two, my stuff would have been back on the shelves. Imagine me an hour later returning with my debit card planning to purchase the items that cashier #12 said she would take care of for me. No one wants to see that kind of fury.

Needless to say, my buddy at Customer Service re-rang all of my items, took my social security number, and ran my check. That simple.

But here's my predicament now: I have always been a huge advocate of Wal-Mart as the only conglomerate that could really offer the best price and every item I could ever need in one place. You can find Wal-Mart's anywhere, and they're all set up pretty much the same. But because of the sheer size of the corporation, the number of customers they have, losing one is meaningless. There's zero repercussion to mistreatment or mishandling situations. Even if I never come back and somehow convince my friends to do the same, Wal-Mart feels nothing. And further more, where do I go to get all of my stuff? In a real city, you'd find me roaming local markets, whole foods stores, etc. But Platteville, Wisconsin? Not a lot of other options...Wal-Mart, K-Mart, Piggly Wiggly. Ugh. So, you probably won't find me boycotting Wal-Mart or convincing others to join my quest. But, I'm not all that happy about it.

Sigh. I'll probably get over it.