Dear Wal-Mart:
You know, you and I have never really gotten along. Your merchandise
is cheaply made, you put small business out of business and you smell
funny. But well, when I'm desperate, you are right next door and your
catfood is relatively inexpensive. So I guess we, uh, get by.
Until now.
See, according to my newsfeed, you have decided to open your stores at 8
pm on Thanksgiving to really cash in on that good ol' Black Friday
spirit.
God, you're tacky.
Your shoppers truly can't
wait through post-turkey hangover to get their mitts on a television?
Family-time pales in comparison to the promise of an $89 Wii? You can't
give your employees the dignity of a FULL holiday to spend with their
loved ones? A day uninterrupted by some screaming banshee demanding to
know where the electronics department is? Not cool, Wal-Mart. Not
cool.
Y'know, despite my bitching and moaning, I'm really not
that old and I remember how we used to spend the day after
Thanksgiving...picking at cold leftovers while sitting in the living
room and just kinda, oh, talking to each other. Enjoying everyone's
company because if there's one thing my childhood taught me is that shit
happens and you should cherish what time together you can find.
AND IT WAS AWESOME.
Yeah, I may have been acting like a bored fifteen-year-old, but deep
down? SPENDING TIME WITH YOUR LOVED ONES IS AWESOME. Even before you
are old enough to drink, IT IS AWESOME. You should let your employees
try it some time. It might raise their fucking morale a touch. Think
of the PR: MAJOR RETAILER SHUTS THE FUCK UP FOR DAY! PARADES OF JOY AND
TICKERTAPE COMMENCE!
But I guess having compassion or empathy isn't profitable.
So, Wal-Mart, our relationship must end. My catfood, quarts of oil and
windshield wipers shall be purchased elsewhere. I know you won't miss
my money in the slightest and my boycott of you will impact your
business in no way whatsoever...but wow, does the smugness feel good.
Happy Thanksgiving!
Sincerely,
Me
