When Walmart becomes a party

When I go to Walmart, I want to party. And I like to think its employees do too.

It was scorching hot last Wednesday when I got the call to roll on an emergency dispatch call. An automatic alarm sounded at Red Lion signaling its sprinkler system was tripped. Moments later, a second alarm blasted through the office, notifying Polson City/Rural Fire fighters of another blaring alarm at Polson’s Walmart.

I jumped in my poorly maintained jalopy, cut off a few pokey slow cars and maneuvered my way into the back shadow on Polson Fire Department’s engine 311.

Balanced on my leg, a co-workers more reliable phone parroted a conversation between emergency personnel I can only listen to without asking question.

Hard job all by itself.

I swung into a calm Red Lion parking lot, felt noticeably embarrassed among three focused firefighters and one electrical installment employee with earphones rooted into his brain.

I learned from a “reliable source” that had nothing to do with Red Lion or its staff that the fraternal twin alarms were sparked after an innocent water pressure valve test while Red Lion-related construction workers were testing their system.

It works.

Since no one was panicking at Red Lion I decided to jump across the highway to Walmart, where I met a manager at its entrance who shooed me away with the message that Walmart was temporarily closed.

I flashed my mighty press badge and entered the scene to find the back half of their parking lot filled with happy Walmart employees and the few brave customers willing to stand in the pounding sun to wait for the store to be officially cleared.

Walmart, I guess, has a protocol to follow when such unexpected boo boos take place and they could not repopulate until management and the fire department deemed it, all clear.

While snapping photos of Walmart’s alarming consequences I saw a theme: Smiling.

Lawrence Kennedy was shopping when the alarm blasted and he sat in the seat of an electric cart visiting with folks around him. Likewise, a group of pharmacy ladies gaggled together laughing. Another group of men and women wisely congregated near a tree making good use of time from their jobs.

Later, when I saw the photos, I realized the small, hot, collection of minutes at the back end of Walmart’s parking lot transformed themselves into a party.

An abbreviated, happy, party.

And why wouldn’t it be a party?

Walmart is my happy place too.