If it’s the day before Easter, or any holiday for that matter, it’s safe to bet that stores and shops are going to be busy beyond recognition. 

Today I went to Wal*Mart and spent a lot of time stocking up on things.  Shopping at the big grey box is never a pleasant experience, but the rottenness is amplified the day before a holiday.  Today I got stuck in line behind Coupon Lady and in front of Lady with Screamin’, Sugarfied Twins.  We were all happy, standing together, far, far back in the line.  Eventually only Coupon Lady was in front of me. 

Naturally, Coupon Lady wrote a check which seemed to have a problem “going through,” a manager had to get called to the scene and everything.  This was taking forever.  It would have been pointless to go look for another line, because there were maybe five cashiers (How May I Help YOU?) in the entire store.  It was best to stay put.  That is, until I realized I forgot something vital!  I was on the hunt for a woodenstep stool, and I was too late-already stuck in line.  I had already invested a good thirty minutes in line.  I guess thirty minutes doesn’t sound like much, but time spent in Wal*Mart is very similar to time approaching a black hole. 

So I went next door to Hobby Lobby.  The craft king always has wooden stools.  And they did.  I grabbed my simple purchase and went to find a cashier, pay, and get back on the road.

I like Hobby Lobby.  Really, I do.  However, their infrastructure is in serious need of upgrade.  Their cash registers are old.  Nothing seems to be connected.  The poor lady has to type in each price instead of scanning it in.  This might not seem like a big deal, until you think about the nature of Hobby Lobby. 

Crafts and bubbly old people. 

Case in point.  The elderly lady in front of me was purchasing a basketful of small, paper-based items.  Some of the items were 50% off.  Some were not.  Some were five for a dollar.  Some were three for a dollar.  Some were not on sale at all.  The customer kept pointing inconsistencies out in the pricing.  A newspaper insert, advertising Hobby Lobby sales, was found and studied.  The cashier had to go through this mess and figure it out.  She was typing, and glancing, and backpedalling.  She was ruffling, and searching for tags, and changing her mind.  I would not have been surprised to see her pull an abacus out of her apron to speed things along. 

The line behind me grew longer.  It was good to be second.

My waiting time at Hobby Lobby (with only the one person in front of me, with a small basket-o-crap) was equivalent to my time in line at Wal*Mart, standing behind cartloads and cartloads of plastic bonglebits and goombatrons. 

So it is with great regret that I am boycotting Hobby Lobby until they enter the 21st century.