Is Safeway A Place For The Damned?

In this crappy piece of investigative journalism (yeah right.) I set out to prove to the nation that the people who work at the local Safeway are of a certain breed and therefore we are all damned.

As I wonder the isles of my local Safeway I've noticed that it takes a certain type of person to work at said Safeway. I'm unsure if it is this way with all Safeway's, but I live in a town where the theory of evolution is disproved as 99.9% of the population are one step above flinging their own faeces at one another. With very few exceptions to the rule (the exception being TWO people who work there that have an I.Q of over 3) I have come to the conclusion that Safeway is a black hole. A pit of despair for those who feel they cannot escape. They are tortured souls in crisp white shirts and little name tags. Their zombie like stares greet you as you approach the counter, arms clutching the goods you wish to purchase hoping they don't wish to feast on your brain meats. The lobotimised scanning of products is enough to drive one away from the Safeway and fleeing into the night, leaving your hairspray and ice cream cake behind to fend for themselves. This my friends is no way to live.

One rule of thumb is to never enter the Safeway in the later hours of the night, as they dust off their scarier, more programmed employees. Those who stare and watch as you move through the isles with a ninja like stealth, hoping they don't actually recognise you as a person, but as a solitary trolley moving along, wheels squeaking in the silence. It is unknown what happens if they spot you, as nobody has ever been able to make it out alive in such circumstances.

I'm sure theres more to this, but right now its 4.30 am and I feel like I should be watching Married With Children re--runs as opposed to rambling on about Safeway. I really need to get some sleep, its almost been three days.