Reflection: Walmart Parking Lots

You can learn a lot about your values by sleeping in a Walmart parking lot.

One of my responsibilities as a liberal, middle class white person is to care about society’s problems while still contributing to the cycle of regression that causes them in the first place. So it is with me and Walmart.

I fundamentally disagree with the way Walmart relies on foreign slave labor, underpays its domestic employees, and expects the taxpayer to pick up the slack when those employees can’t support themselves on their meager wages — all while the Waltons redefine obscene wealth and shirk billions in taxes. That’s why I make it a habit not to shop there. Unless, you know, it’s really convenient. I mean, sometimes you just have to, right?

I’m on tour with my band, The West, and Walmart comes in handy more often than I’d like to admit. We’re at that awesome stage in our careers where we get to play at SxSW, but still need to sleep in a few parking lots on the way down to Austin. Walmart provides that parking lot and more.

Walmart Supercenters are great places to spend the night in your RV, camper, boat-hauling pickup, church van, tour bus, or even the beat up Ford Escape you’re calling home for awhile (maybe because you work at Walmart and can’t afford a motel). The mega corporation has agreed not to boot you or rat your vagrant ass out to the cops, so you can rest easy under the bright white lights — and let me tell you; there are few things more soothing than stadium lighting and a cart collection buggy’s gentle rattle at 3:00 in the morning.

I suppose it’s the least Walmart can do, considering what they do to local economies. They roll into town, put the small places out of business, and rehire everyone for pennies on the dollar. But, hey, they’ll make sure you have a place to stay after you get evicted, so that’s pretty cool, right?

“Sorry about that whole ‘living wage’ thing. You can crash at our place while you figure out how to make ends meet.”

— Walmart, doing you a real big favor.

But let’s be honest. This is also a brilliant way for Walmart to drum up business from unprepared lack wits like me who find themselves shivering in the parking lot without a sleeping bag or heavy coat — in March. Could I have bought a sleeping bag somewhere else in any one of the many days leading up to tour? Yes. God yes. But, uh…whoops.

So I ended up shopping at Walmart on this tour, despite my moral qualms. I went in there for other things too, like toothpaste, late-night snacks, bottled water, beer (which we definitely didn’t drink in the parking lot) and a host of other things that could have been purchased somewhere else with just a little more foresight. Walmart’s convenience was irresistibly tempting, and so the Waltons got a little bit of my money to put in some tax shelt — I mean charity — somewhere.

Once I get back to my warm apartment in Seattle, where one must to drive miles and miles to find the nearest Walmart, it’ll be easy to take a moral stand again. Then I can get that feeling of self-righteous sanctimony back. That’s how activism works, right?

— JB Swihart