Open Letters: I-was-forced-to-go-to-Wal-Mart edition

Dear Lady looking at the discount breads,

Bitch, please.

Seriously, if you have THAT much of an issue with my small child accidentally touching an item you had HANGING OFF YOUR CART then you should not be allowed to be in public at anytime, ever. She apologized to you, even though YOU DID NOT DESERVE IT and you put your hands on your hips and huffed your breath out at her! Like she even did anything wrong!

If you aren't familiar with South Park, there's a song you should know:

Kyle's Mom is a Big Fat Bitch
Well... Kyle's Mom's a bitch, she's a big fat bitch,
She's the biggest bitch in the whole wide world,
She's a stupid bitch, if there ever was a bitch
She's a bitch to all the boys and girls!

On Monday she's a bitch, on Tuesday she's a bitch,
On Wednesday's and Saturday's she's a bitch,
Then on Sunday's, just to be different,
She's a super King Kamebameda 'bee-atch'.


Wherever it says "Kyle's Mom"? Replace it with whatever your name is.

Love and stuff!
That Chick

PS: If those baby clothes you were buying were for you? I weep for the future of America.





Dear lady in the parking lot who couldn't be bothered to return her cart to the cart corral,

Bitch, please.

For real, you can't walk an extra fifteen steps to put your cart into the cart corral? Really?

Because based on the metric ton of crap you placed into your SUV from that cart, you were certainly hale and hearty enough to walk around the Wal-Mart for at least an hour.

And how lovely it was of you to place the cart right behind my vehicle. Really, brilliant. Thanks ever so much for that.

I don't generally wish ill on others, but seriously? I hope an entire fleet of shopping carts breaks free from a corral and runs into your vehicle while you stand there helplessly watching. It would be super, also, if I were somewhere that I could see this entire episode, so I could point and laugh at you.

Love and junk!
That Chick

PS: See the lyrics above. Please insert your name where it says "Kyle's Mom".




Dear lady who almost plowed me over in the Deli/Bakery department,

Bitch, please.

If it was really all that important for you to pick up your child's birthday cake, you could have gotten there an hour earlier. You running over my foot and slamming your cart into my backside because "you were in a hurry" is really 1) bitchy and 2) not my problem. Also, you don't get to line jump because "it's your son's birthday". Again, you should have been aware upon awaking this morning that it's your son's birthday and the fact that you were wearing pajama bottoms leads me to believe that you really haven't been busy doing many productive things today, unless you work from the home as a lady of ill repute, and by the way ma'am, if that is the case? You totally need to invest in some Victoria's Secret because those Big Dog pajama pants did absolutely nothing for you.

YOUR LACK OF PLANNING DOES NOT CONSTITUTE AN EMERGENCY ON MY PART. Or, you know, the part of the lady working at the Deli/Bakery.

YOU SUCK.

DO BETTER.

Love and kisses!
That Chick

PS: See the song above. Please insert your own name in the place of "Kyle's Mom".



Dear Piddledick who was giving the old lady marking receipts at the door a hard time,

Douche, please.

That old lady probably makes like, $5 an hour. She works at freaking Wal-Mart instead of enjoying her Golden Years and grandchildren. And quite frankly, bless her heart, it does not appear that life has been particularly kind to her. The least you could do is not be a complete cockslap when she's trying to do her job. For the love of God, all she asked for was your receipt so she could verify you weren't trying to steal that 20lb. bag of charcoal and super-extra large box of Tampax you were purchasing. You didn't have to give the 200 year old woman a hard time.

STOP IT.

DO BETTER.

BEING A DICK IS NOT A REQUIREMENT FOR HAVING A DICK.

Thank you!
That Chick

PS: See the song above. Insert your own name where it says, "Kyle's Mom" and "Douche" where it says, "Bitch."