Haunt Me the Rest of My Days

As many of you are aware, I was once employed by the behemoth that is Wal-Mart. It was a dark period in my life and I try to think about it as little as possible. Unfortunately, there are no more than three stores in Clarksville, so I still do all my shopping there. The thing that really bothers me about it, though, is that in spite of the fact that I've not been employed there for over a year now and I'm almost always wearing slacks, a dress shirt and a tie, PEOPLE CONTINUE TO ASK ME IF I WORK THERE!

NO, YOU INBRED SIMPLETONS! AM I WEARING A BLUE VEST? DOES MY BACK ASK, AGAINST MY INNERMOST DESIRES, IF I CAN HELP YOU? DO I, IN ANY FASHION, APPEAR SERVILE TO YOU? If I didn't need to shop there, I would most certainly thrash the next half-wit that asked if I was a Wal-Mart employee, resulting in being banned for life from the Clarksville Wal-Mart Supercenter, Store #66. The waves of anger crash over me, flooding the lower 9th ward and leaving common sense sitting on its roof, waiting for a helicopter. But, alas, like so many stranded at the Superdome, I have little choice but to deal with the frustration and hope that, someday, this will all blow over...