(Bates) Ode to Wal-Mart

     If there is anything I truly miss about America, it would be Wal-Mart. That big, ugly, blue and orange logo suspended on a shapeless, warehouse-like building rising behind a blacktop crowded with cars. I admit, it’s ruined me for any other grocery store. That’s a sad statement, especially for a girl born and raised in New Orleans who ought to have some respect for “making groceries” at the French Market. (Insert heavy sigh here.) But to have back the low prices and convenience, not to mention the free shopping bags that will later double as trash bags. I find myself pining almost daily for Wal-Mart’s promise of only one large grocery-shopping trip per week.

     Yet I carry on. I’ve learned that most body-care products are found in pharmacies, something every little town, no matter how small, has three or four of all within a few blocks of one another. I’ve also accepted that groceries are fundamentally for food only. I suppose the little shopping centers possess their own sort of charm. There are the little convenience stores like Spar, just across the street from Trinity. They’ve got cool drinks, a nice selection of yogurt, and a small bakery if you’re late to the buttery and don’t feel like walking too far for breakfast. Then there’s Marks & Spencer, a larger grocery in the basement of a clothing store. (This seems to be a theme in Ireland, but I’ll get to that.) Granted, I consider M&S a bit deficient for their lack of crackers, but they make up for it with their decent selection of frozen dinners, most of which are low in calories. I try to look on shopping in these specialty stores as a kind of adventure—a hunt for the store that carries just what I need. If it weren’t for the huge crowds, crazy drivers, and sirens, I’d say it was like shopping in a small town.

     There. I’ve tried to put a positive spin on it. But still, I cannot describe the giddy joy I experienced the day I discovered Dunnes’ basement super-store. It’s not that I hadn’t been in the mall multiple times. I’d even bought a few T-shirts, a poncho, and washcloths from Dunnes. For some reason, I had just never ventured down that escalator. But there it was—shelves lined with a real selection of cereals and snacks, including my favorite brand of crackers. They had an acceptable isle of body care products and even sold beach towels. While still marveling at my discovery, I saw a little girl pointing to the cookie isle and asking her mom for a box. Thinking the little girl had the right idea, I selected a bag of chocolate, caramel, and almond cookies and, along with my box of crackers, went to pay at the check-out. Now I’d say I pine a little less for Wal-Mart.