I live within a stone’s throw of George Washington’s boyhood home, Ferry Farm, and it was on this site that he supposedly chopped his dad’s cherry tree, threw a silver dollar across the Rappahannock River and banged seven comely wenches in the span of but one fortnight.
Unfortunately, not everything in this area is as awesome, and about a half-mile to the east is the Ferry Farm Walmart, and this place is a shit-hole. It’s fouler than a Mexican Walmart, which is amazing because I was once attacked by a chicken in a Mexican Walmart, and I’m still not sure if it was for sale, was someone’s pet or just wandered in.
You see that picture up there? Those are the soap dispensers in the men’s room at Ferry Farm. Note the veneer of grease and filth and that one is literally held together with painter’s tape.
How about you guys splurge and have corporate send over two new ones that don’t look like they’ll give me dysentery if I touch them.
This Walmart is a goddamned mess. Nothing is in the right spot, food is often expired, and the only competent employee in the store is the retarded guy who gathers up the carts.