Cleanup: Infidelity on Aisle 5

I have a confession: I cheated on SuperTarget. With Cub Foods. I know - it's horrible. It's like when Hugh Grant cheated on Elizabeth Hurley with that nasty prostitute. The smell of newspaper coupons had enticed me - as did my dwindling bank account. In a moment of weakness, temptation took over, and I gave in to the curious thrill of the unknown, the excitement of the unfamiliar. Looking back, I now shudder in shame.
It was awful. The garish, unforgiving fluorescent lights that turned my skin a sickly shade of yellow. The barely audible, yet painfully boring music. As I browsed up and down the aisles, a growing sense of guilt and regret filled my ugly, archaic grocery cart. An old lady with moccasins and crooked knitted sweater giggles - to herself. As I hurried by her, I caught a whiff of...wait, is that cat urine? Off in the distance, I see an old man fishing out shelled peanuts with his wrinkly, dry hands. He licks his fingers, then proceeds to the next aisle. I start to panic. Looking around, I realized I was by far the youngest - and clearly most sane - shopper in the store. As I enter the cracker aisle, I see Cat Piss Lady again, then quickly dart off, sacrificing my French Onion Sun Chips for the week - a longtime favorite, but too risky right now. I blindly browse each aisle, cursing Cub's illogical aisle system. I frantically search for the rest of my items, fearful of what - or, worse, who - each aisle would reveal. I felt like Ms. Pac Man, waiting for the next ghost to come gobble me up.
The clerk, painstakingly slow and apathetic, did not even bag my groceries. He seemed to be sweating a lot (probably from the stupid lights) , so I was actually relieved. Bread, milk, fruit...I didn't care. I rapidly stuffed the bag and fled to freedom - but not without first being bombarded by an obese child attempting to win a grotesque panda bear from the crane machine. The panda's eyes seemed to be staring at me, mocking me - or were they? I think the lights and stagnant air were clouding my mental clarity. I dash through the sliding door, and am welcomed by sunlight and a slight breeze. I sigh in relief.
Like most adulteresses, I felt guilty; dirty. Soiled in smutty shame, I showered the moment I got home. I'm sorry SuperTarget. I'll never go to Cub Foods again.