Tuesday, February 2, 2010

Does Walmart Really Need Door Greeters?

Had a little run-in with the door "greeter" at the Walmart today.
It did not end well for her.

When you have three children under the age of four, going to any store solo is always a monumental task. Today was no exception. A few stores, Walmart, Target, Sams, make it a little easier with a limited number of kid-friendly carts that allow an industrious and brave shopper with multiple children to place all of them in the same cart with seat belts instead of simply piling them all in the basket of the cart willy-nilly and hoping for the best.

Now when I say limited number, I mean limited number. Today was an exception. There happened to be an abundance of said carts in the cart line today much to my delight.

There was already one happy shopper piling her children into the first cart, so I carried my double-arm load of children (yes, I carry them both) to the second waiting cart. After much strap adjusting and balancing of children, we are finally ready to set off on our third banana run of the week (sixteen bananas since Thursday!!!). We began to pull out around the infant seat cart parked directly in front of us-when it started.

"Excuse me. You'll have to take this cart in the front of the line.


There is now a new cart in the front of the line and you'll have to take it.

Ummmmmm. I don't think so.

Yes. You have to. Because it is the one in front and you can't take one in the back."

Okay, is this lady seriously deluded? She must be. I know she just watched me balance two screaming, squirming one- year old toddlers between both knees and arms and hands as I deftly buckled them in and adjusted the straps for the five minutes prior to her "proclamation" that I "must" move my children to the cart in the front because she, "the door greeter," said I had to? She had to be out of her mind! I was not about to take any guff from someone, who by the very definition of her job title, was supposed to greet me when I came to her place of work to spend obscene amounts of money (just ask my husband, he'll back that up).

"There is no way I am taking my children out of this cart and moving them to that cart. If you want me to change carts, you are going to have to move them yourself.

We're going to get a manager over here."

And with that, I simply drove around the other carts and her and went on about my shopping trip thinking, this is ridiculous. And I left it at that.

The "Door Nazi" had other ideas.

By the time I made it to my first stop, the cereal aisle, she had caught up with me. She stalked me through the Walmart. OVER A CART! She proceeded to tell me exactly why she was enforcing her ridiculous "rules" and why she wanted to make an example of me. I told her, look I am sorry for your problem, but I have two babies who need naps, one of which whose head you are squishing by getting in my face (she totally was and she didn't even notice that he was screaming-she did apologize) and I don't have time to be your example today because I just need to get a few things and put my babies down for their naps.

During this little exchange a department manager noticed the heated discussion and called a store manager over and then I had to explain to her what went down between me and the door "greeter." The greeter had already left by the time the manager arrived so I got to explain everything. She assured me that I could feel free to take any cart I liked and she would have a "talk" with said greeter. Poor Brock and Braden were so done by the time we left Walmart they were in complete meltdown mode.

I was afraid to go back through the exit because I didn't want to run into the door nazi again. Luckily, we passed through without incident because she wasn't anywhere to be seen. Now I am nervous about the next time we go to Walmart. Man, if only our Target had groceries...

1 comment:

James said...

Really door lady? Seriously? So sorry about this, Amber. And I agree, going to the store with little kids is a monumental experience. You go braving Walmart with all 3! - Laura A.