This time, I was in the back of the property, by the store's loading docks, where I'd slept to the incessant "beep-beep-beep" of the cargo loader's zipping about, then backing up, then repeating. Not much else to say about this one. Once again, my yoga was successful, and no one killed me (or tried, that I know of at least). I patronized the store a couple times, and it was certainly a Wal-Mart. Unlike that one store, no souped-up cars raced in the parking lot (they must've been at Target down the street).
Thanks, Wal-Mart! You are my friend, no matter what folks say about you (or how much you sell to us from China).
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