The Robot Revolution Has Begun!

They built a new WalMart in town, really close to my neighborhood. (There goes the neighborhood, right? As if you can't get any more redneck than Central Indiana, anyway!) Today was the grand opening. They had a robot greeter.

Of course, I had to go. I love robots. And I have a love/hate relationship with WalMart.

Seriously. Where else can you get cake mix, spray paint, bed sheets, petunias, patio furniture, underwear, and a hunting knife, all in the same building? I didn't buy those things, by the way, but I could have if I'd wanted to. I think everything you would need to restart civilization in the aftermath of a holocaust could be found in WalMart.

But, you'd be at WalMart. The place where the rules of dressing don't apply. Hey, if you are 40 years old, you can't wear a child's Spider-Man costume as clothing. (Actually, the age limit is probably much less than that, so don't try to get by on a technicality.) Likewise, those Daisy Dukes are probably meant for a much younger woman, granny.

There are other things that piss me off about WalMart, but that is a story for another day. Today was all about the robot.