A Quinnipiac poll earlier this month found that 51% of New Yorkers support Wal-Mart opening stores in New York City. Maybe those supporters didn’t have the shopping experiences I had this weekend. After visiting several jumbo stores, I have some advice for any Wal-Mart execs who still have Big Apple fever: Think it over. Urban big boxes are a world apart from their suburban and rural counterparts.

Lured by the promise of inexpensive clothing by British designer Luella Bartley, I made my way to the Target store on Atlantic Avenue in Brooklyn. Like a glutton for punishment, I then decided to compare Target to other big retailers. I hit K-Mart; Bed, Bath & Beyond; T.J. Maxx, and the temporary Uniqlo – not technically a big box, but a sizable retailer selling cashmere sweaters for $30. I counted a recent trip to Filene’s Basement as evidence, too.

My experience with many of these retailers in less-populated locales has been largely positive. It’s a kick to enter a store the size of an airport hangar and emerge with unexpected goodies. But after treading the linoleum here, I found that urban bigbox retailing works when there is enough staff and supply to accommodate the volume of customers. When equilibrium strikes, shopping is fun. When something’s off, it’s drudgery.

At Target, my biggest disappointment was the feeling that in several departments, I’d just missed out on the best stuff. That suspicion was confirmed when I overheard several employees complaining about annoying things customers ask. (Such as “Do you work here?”) The pertinent laugh line had to do with customers who ask if there is more of an item. “The most common phrase I say is, ‘There’s more coming in on Monday,'” said the cutup of the bunch.

That was all I needed to know about the Luella Bartley duds crammed onto a few racks.The buttonup oxford with little red cherries was only available in extra small. Oh, but there were plenty of sizes of mint-green cotton jeans. In housewares, I found a throw pillow that worked for my couch, but no mate. Ditto for the unmentionables department, where my size was not to be found in the style I wanted.

I had better luck at T.J. Maxx, a very different sort of store. This off-price retailer sells designer apparel and home furnishings in an unpredictable assortment. “Never the same place twice,” reads my receipt for two throw pillows and two pairs of spring shoes. (They were Italian. I was weak.)

But the place is a complete mess.The shoes were in wild disarray. In the bedding aisle, packages of sheets had fallen from the shelves onto the floor. The accent pillows had retained their station on the shelves, but it took a game of memory to find two that matched. Here, the mess was understandable: The thrill is in the find, so customers are rooting through everything and not putting it back.The employees can’t clean up fast enough, and it will all be wrecked soon anyway.

The Filene’s Basement experience is similar, except that the racks are jammed impossibly close to each other. You can stand in one place and reach enough merchandise for 45 outfits. Here the supply is overflowing, but one’s desire to buy wilts after fighting through the racks like a running back.

By contrast, Bed, Bath & Beyond is an oasis of order. Somehow, this store makes it work. The inventory is stacked neatly from floor to ceiling, and there seem to be enough employees to keep it that way. They even say “hello” and smile. Shopping at the Sixth Avenue store was the closest to a suburban experience that I found. The main difference was that the aisles are considerably narrower here.

My weekend included a visit to the Japanese apparel store Uniqlo, located in SoHo until June. There are 700 Uniqlo stores in Japan, Britain, China, and South Korea. From the flier I saw, I thought it would be bigger and more badly lit than it was. But the place was like a smaller Old Navy, with exposed brick instead of has-been celebrities. The clothing was arranged neatly on shelves, and every time I messed up a pile, someone refolded it. The same goes for the just-so jeans area. The premium Japanese denim is of high quality and good fit. For $40, it’s a steal.

The trade-off is that the selection is limited, and so is the space. As far as my ratio goes, these people nailed it. Uniqlo’s employees can be quick on the draw because they have a small territory and a focused inventory.

In this, Uniqlo is again similar to Old Navy.At the Old Navy on 34th Street, there are typically legions of employees reshelving and refolding the masses of clothing housed in acres of space. The place is nowhere near as untidy as the Atlantic Avenue Target or the Sixth Avenue T.J. Maxx.

As for K-Mart, the Martha Stewart partnership is still the strongest element.The home section offers a well cared for selection of textiles in appealing patterns and colors, as well as good-looking home accessories and plenty of small appliances. Clothing and accessories are neat because customers largely ignore them. It would seem that the employees here focus their energy on the high-traffic, high-demand areas. And they get the job done.

Could a Wal-Mart in New York City do the same? Maybe. But after this weekend, I’m an online shopper.