First of all, Kmart is not *al-Mart. Kmart is from Michigan, so it can't be all bad! Growing up, it was the store that had the little merry-go-rounds and horses you put a penny in and rode out front. And as much as I do like Target, it has more mucho annoying screaming kids, plus it drags me further into the borough!
But before I sing too many praises, let me be clear. Big K's employees and NYC policies need some friggin, um, evaluation! For friggin example: I go in...for the cute MSE juice glasses. Get sidetracked by the cute MSE furniture and dessert compotes. Decide on the glasses, compotes and go for the days of the week dish towels I've been eyeing for awhile. Go downstairs to the register (Big K is 3 levels in NYC, read THREE levels, sigh, I'm so tired from wearing my new LES vintage boots all day). The boy who checks me out just puts all the glass compotes in one plastic bag. I was like, um, hello, do you have tissue paper? Of...course not! So I ask him to wrap each one individually, or I would do it if he'd like. No, he will do it for me. Before I pay, he asks if I would like to donate a dollar to something, but I have no idea what he was saying he said it so fast. I'm like, no. Would I like to apply for a Sears credit card? Um, there's no Sears in NYC, so no...! I go to leave the store and there's a guy checking receipts. Normally you only have to get it checked if what you're carrying doesn't fit in a bag. Not at Kmart! Ugh! I can't find the receipt in the 3 bags anywhere. He tells me I have to go back to the cashier. He never gave me my receipt to begin with, it turns out! Still on the register. I hate you, I think. It is Passover, everyone left early but me, and I'm tired and carrying 5 bags and I hate you. Yep, that's my Jewish holiday Kmart story. Stayed tuned for Easter!
