Before the pandemic, I often strolled through the aisles of Walmart at 3 a.m., accompanied only by the sound of my flip-flops slapping the floor.
I was alone. I was free.
The denizens of those viral “People of Walmart” videos had scurried off long before. No one would be standing in line ahead of me, fiddling with a fistful of expired coupons.
The always-open business model was whisked away in 2020 in the name of public health, replaced with arrows pasted on the floor directing us like cattle to move in one direction.
For a while, I had been turned into a human version of the Pac-Man, and I’d be scolded if I didn’t follow the flashing dots to get my Ragu. There was no more eviscerating a feeling than walking two aisles out of your way just to grab a box of Honeycombs.
The arrows are now just a reminder of a bygone hysteria, but the disappearance of the 24-hour supercenter appears to be a permanent casualty.
Like so much we were told during the start of the pandemic, the explanation didn’t quite make sense. Walmart said it was closing so employees could clean the store. But a handful of night owls wouldn’t interfere with cleaning, right?
And cleanliness has never been a selling point. Walmart’s allure has been that it always offered the lowest prices, though there is a cost that didn’t show up on the receipt. I refer to it as the “soul tax.”
It’s that indelible moment when you witness a 300-pound woman whizzing past you in the electronic grocery cart while wearing Hello Kitty slippers, a tank top and painted-on pajama bottoms several sizes too small.
Though part of you sometimes dies while shopping during banking hours at Walmart, you can still save $15.43.
Not only did the supercenters reduce hours, but so did the restaurants.
Buddy’s Pizza in Ann Arbor used to be open until 10 p.m. pre-pandemic. Now it closes at 9 p.m.
The shortened hours of restaurants are not hard to explain., given that the industry has struggled to find people to work post-pandemic.
According to a June 2024 survey of restaurants by the Michigan Restaurant & Lodging Association, 55% of restaurants are operating without adequate staffing, and nearly 60% of restaurants are operating with fewer hours or days due to inadequate staffing.
It’s likely those statistics apply to the retail industry, too.
Walmart’s hours are now 6 a.m. to 11 p.m., Meijer’s are 6 a.m. to midnight, and Kroger’s are 6 a.m. to 10 p.m.
There are occasional internet rumors Walmart will end its self-imposed curfew and return to the days of open borders.
In August 2022, USA Today debunked a viral social media post saying that Walmart was returning to 24 hours. Politifact did the same in May 2024, with Reuters chiming in a week or so later.
Judging by the attention those posts get, I sense many yearn for the return of 24-hour shopping.
“I’ll tell you what’s wrong with this country right now,” reads a popular Facebook meme posted in August. “None of us have had a 3 am Walmart run in FOUR FRICKING YEARS.”
Sadly, that doesn’t seem likely to change anytime soon. Online shopping is reducing the need for after-midnight hours.
On Nov. 15, 2021, Walmart did tweet a response to a person asking for the return of the chain staying open 24 hours. “Hey, Kelly. We don’t have any plans on returning to 24 hours but you can always shop online anytime,” Walmart said.
7-Eleven claims to have created the open-all-night model. The 1963 University of Texas football team went undefeated and won the national championship. A 7-Eleven near the campus in Austin was so busy after one of the home football games, it couldn’t close. So, the story goes, it never did.
This led to comedian Stephen Wright questioning in his act during the 1980s why 7-Eleven had locks on their doors if they were open 24 hours.
I stopped at one to get a slurpee on a Saturday afternoon and mentioned to the clerk that his store was the last bastion of 24-hour stores in Michigan.
“Not at all,” he told me. “We close at 10 p.m. I wouldn’t work 24/7.”
So just as Wright joked years ago, it seems in this post-Covid world, all stores are open 24 hours… just not in a row.
Tom Gantert is a contributing writer for Michigan Enjoyer.