I don’t know about you, but whenever we go into Wal-Mart, we notice–hmm–shall we say a certain clientele that seems to be pretty much the same for any Wal-Mart that you walk into. I’m not trying to be snotty–ok, maybe I am–but it seems like, at least where we live, there are just a bunch of rednecks in there. White trash, large, with several kids that have dirty faces and unkempt hair. The kids are running all over and the mom will occasionally blurt out something like, “Hey! Knock that crap off!! What the *&^% are you doin’?” I’m not saying everyone there is like that, but there sure are a lot of people like that when I go in there. And to be fair, yes, I do shop there, because it is cheap.
Last night, since the kids were doing their thing at church, and David and I don’t have anything to do there, we decided to go get the eggs from the Chicken Lady and then we went to IHOP. For those of you not familiar with this abbreviation, it means “International House of Pancakes.” I swear, it was the same people I have noticed at Wal-Mart. It really has gotten run down. David asked me, “Does it smell like dog in here?” It did. I think that if we decide to go out again, it will not be there, because I can put up with Wal-Mart, but we are talking about a night out, not grocery night. So, IHOP, I will not ever frequent your doors again. You will be like the Shoney’s that I have never been in–and also the Long John Silver’s.