Tell me why/ I hate Mondays...

Embarrassing admission: in my wayward, brooding youth, I used to shoplift. I know, I know, it is terrible horrible and bad, bad, bad, but I was a weird lonely adolescent and this was my way of acting out. Arguably it was a cry for help, but seeing as how I was never caught it was a cry for help that no one heard, which I guess was a waste of time. Anyway, things took an upturn; I became less brooding and a relatively happier person, who felt no need to commit antisocial acts. Many, many years later, I feel I have become the victim of karma, in as much as I seem to set off those fucking, fucking anti-shoplifting alarms every fucking time I pass through them, despite the fact I have not stolen anything. I must have an alien chip in my head. It only happens in big box stores (Best Buy, Wal-Mart etc), where the doors are some distance from the checkout. Now, in a perfect world when the alarm went off an employee would be discreetly alerted and rush over, we’d discuss the issue and I’d verify that I had not, in fact, stolen anything and we’d laugh about it and I’d be on my way. In a perfect world. What actually happens is… nothing. Well, not nothing. First, a hideously loud screech sounds throughout the area. Then, all the other customers nearby look at me with contemptuous accusing eyes; "You shoplifting piece of shit!" they say, silently. Now, at this point, you’d think an employee would come over to investigate the piercingly shrill alarm, but no. No employees bat an eye. This leaves me with the choice of a) ignoring the alarm and continuing on my way, or b) going and finding an employee, to advise them that I am not a shoplifter. Now a) results in even more contemptuous looks, as it looks like I’m just trying to escape. Option b) results in charming little exchanges like this:

Me: Excuse me, I appear to have set off the alarm.
Brain-dead retail zombie moron: Huh?
Me: The shoplifting alarm? At the front doors? I set it off.
BDRZ: Melvin?
Me: No, I’m not Melvin. Could you just check my bag or something, so I could leave?
BDRZ: What section was that?
Me: No, I’m talking about the front doors. I would just like to leave. I promise I didn’t steal anything.
BDRZ: I think that’s in cookwares.
Me: Uh… so can I leave?
BDRZ: Melvin?

And so on. As these stirring discussions seldom yield results, this generally leaves me with the only option of just leaving, thus setting off the alarms again, and so on and so on. My question is: what is the fucking point of these fucking alarms if no one gives a fucking shit if they fucking go off? Huh? What’s the fucking point except to heap embarrassment on poor fucking wage slaves who are just on their way to their own brain dead fucking jobs and they are just passing through your fucking store and it’s not their fucking fault that they have alien fucking chips in their head and set off your fucking stupid alarms you fucking fucking morons? Huh? HUH? HUH?
Not that it bothers me or anything.