Swearing in my head

I HATE WALMART. It is the worst store on this planet and I hate every single aspect of it. I hate the parking. I hate the un-helpful, idiotic people who work there. I hate the products they sell. I hate most of the people who shop there. I hate the stupid smiley face, I hate the creepy people they hire to greet you at the door. WALMART MAKES ME SWEAR IN MY HEAD. Its usually the "S" word, fyi. I had to go there today to help Sandra get some medications and a few things at the store. Its basically the same story every time. Please note before reading on that I am typically a pretty nice person and I try not to judge a book by its cover....but its WALMART...you can pretty much guess the book from the title. A typical visit to walmart goes something like this: There are ZERO handicap parking spaces. So I have to circle around till I see someone loading up their car to go. I wait for forever, and then realize that its a senior citizen parking spot. I say, screw it I'm parking here anyway. Just then, an old geezer comes crusing around the corner, blinker already on like he had his eye on that spot all along. "S" word. I'm not so heartless that I would take the spot right in front of him, so I speed off, bearly missing a stream of people so long you would think they were going on Mecca or whatever that pilgramage thing is called. "S" word. Finally, I see another car pulling out. Senior citizen spot again, but I avoid eye contact with everyone and pull into the spot anyways. We enter the store. I make unecissary eye contact with a woman who looks like she has 500 cats waiting for her at home and she hasn't combed her hair or seen a dentist in the last century. She smiles and mumbles, "WELcometowlmrt....." I have a problem with controling my facial expressions, so I'm sure I give her a horrified look and scurry off towards the perscription office. I round the corner to find a line of enourmous size. The "person" in front of me has left their cart to save their place. The line starts moving foreward, so naturally I go around the cart. YOU CAN'T SAVE SEATS ON THE BUS, AND YOU CANT SAVE YOUR SPOT IN LINE WITH A SHOPPING CART. She comes back and gives me a "I was in line! I can't believe you went infront of me" look when she gets back, but I let that roll off the ole back. I get the perscriptions, search the store for a half hour to find a few simple items and head to the checkouts. I am in a rush to get out of there, so as I'm putting stuff on the conveyor belt, I drop the juice. I DROP THE JUICE. And, of course, the lid breaks and V8 comes spilling out all over the floor. "S" word. A flustered check out girl comes around and slowly rolls out a giant piece of paper towel and lays it on top of the puddle. When she bends over to wipe up the juice, she has to pull down her too-tight, see through laced cami down to her knees so she doesn't show her hot pink strawberry short cake thong, wich the world can see anyway because her tank is SEE THROUGH. I pay, I leave, and I try to get the heck out of there and hope to never return.