I was walking down the aisles of Walmart's women's clothing department, listening to all the women complain about our selection. Our selection really was terrible, but i still felt a bit of a sting as though i were the one who personally selected the frumpy clothing we feature. One particularly unpleasant woman, after noticing my Walmart vest, grabs me and thrusts an atrocious shirt at me, demanding to know if i have this in her size in "the back". All customers seem to think we have a handy stash of whatever it is they're looking for in "the back", just so they can't have it. I agreed to go and look, and off to the stock room i trudged. I passed the bedding department and noticed mournfully that the kids had taken down all the pillows again, and were making pillow forts out of them. Walmart's policy was for us to smile indulgently at the kids and let them carry on as though there wasn't some person out there who might want to purchase one of these pillows one day, and that they might not mind that they've been all over the floor and grubby little child-bodies. Practically used merchandise. I thumbed my nose at policy and looked the other way rather than smile at the little cretins.
I finally reached the stock room, and it was pandemonium in there. People were running every where with various boxes and bags of merchandise. I took the escalator up to where Derek was working, and told him about the shirt and socks i needed for the troll woman waiting downstairs for me. He tossed me the socks, which i dropped off with the stockroom manager to hang onto while i found the ugly shirt. Derek said to me that the shirt is in the Other Stockroom. I sighed, fearing this would be the case, and tied on a pair of rollerskates. I grabbed onto a harness on Derek's back and he started trudging off toward the Other Stockroom. At his pace, this was going to take forever. Ah, well, i wasn't anxious to get back to Troll Woman, anyway.
The Other Stockroom was located a mile or so up the road from us, and for easier, safer access for its employees, Walmart built a service road alongside the freeway. Derek and i joined the exodus of employees on quests for mundane objects for our ungrateful customers who would never know how much effort we put into retreiving their items. They would only bitch about how long it took. I considered asking Derek to walk faster, but then i felt grateful that i wasn't the one strapped with his 400lb ass to my back, and decided to hold my peace. I wondered briefly why i wasn't just walking.
Finally, we reached The Other Stockroom and went inside. The inside was like a derelict shopping mall with each store holding the contents of a single Walmart department. The windows were all broken out and the merchandise strewn all over the place and spilling out into the main walkways. Most of the lights didn't work. I took my skates off and hung them up next to the door with my name badge clipped to the laces for easier ID when i came back for them. We navigated the piles of stock, looking for the Women's Clothing department. As we walked, Derek was telling me some story i was only half listening to; i was jittery with thinking about the royal bitching-out Troll Woman was going to give me when i finally made it back, which would only worsen if the shirt in her desired size wasn't here.
We went through a service door that was once used by handymen and janitors to access the areas behind the mall that customers never saw. I thought this was odd, no one used to store merchandise back here. We went up some rickety old wooden stairs that i was afraid wouldn't support Derek's bulk. Once we got to the top, i could see in the dim light that filtered in through the patchy roof that there was a low wooden shed type building on the other side of the rafters. I realized we were in the attic, and a building is a strange thing to see in an attic. I turned to Derek and asked him if he was sure we were in the right place. He gave me an unconvincing smile and said of course he was sure. Dubiously, i headed for the building. Once inside the building (which was much larger on the inside than it appeared to be from the outside), i saw a guy who looked like Willem Dafoe cutting meat on a dirty table. He was wearing a rubber apron and rubber gloves, and there were no lights on inside. I saw a few naked bulbs suspended from the ceiling, and i jerked on their strings to get some light. Only one of them worked. Willem turned woodenly to me and said to me "If you break my last light, your family will need bereavement time from their jobs". Chilled, i turned toward the back of the building and saw a door. I pulled it open, and turned on the light to find that i was standing in a meat locker. I stepped inside, and something crunched underfoot. I thought it was ice, but on closer inspection, i saw that it was frozen maggots. Disgusted, i turned back toward the door to leave, when Derek slammed the door and locked me in. I pounded on the door, screaming to be let out, and i heard his mournful reply, "You should have smiled, Christie. You should have just smiled at them".
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