True Story. Promise.
During my last visit to pick up some staples, I wandered into the feminine hygiene isle. I observed the following. Like all good reporters, I will report only details and omit any subjective data.
Middle aged woman, wheelchair bound, slightly unkempt. Yet still flexible enough to bend over and smell her "lady parts." This exercise elicited a "phew wee" and a waving of the hand to clear the stinky aftersmell. She then took the liberty to take a can of Summer's Eve off the shelf to freshen herself up. Afterwards, she placed the cap back on the said feminine spray and placed it back on the shelf for the next customer.
Walmart has a long, documented history of stories like these. Unfortunately, I don't live anywhere near a Target and have to make do with what I'm given. This store isn't much different from others. It has lots of stuff and a decent, easy to understand layout. It's impossible to find an employee to help you locate a well-hidden item. And plan to be in the check-out lane for at least 20 minutes. But, after all, it is a Walmart. What else would you expect?