Math is hard, why are you shopping?
Jun. 3rd, 2014 12:03 pmDear Penthouse Forum, I never thought this would happen to me, but...
Wait, wrong story.
Today I had to run a few errands. Go vote (I still love going to the polls in person. Something about the whole ritual of it pleases me) and then take![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
kshandra's PT Cruiser, Barnum, to get smogged.
These are the kind of things that tend to tire me out these days.. driving a car I'm not overly familiar with, having to think about voting, etc. But I realized there was one more thing I could do while out and about.
Last night Kiri had gone to make burgers, only to discover that our patties had gone from freezer burned to freezer cremated. Since our favorite auto care place is just a block or so from Smart & Final, I texted Kiri to ask if I should get more dead cow. Got the green light.
So there I am, with one (1) bag o'dead ground-up cow in my basket. The store had one register open. I got in line behind a lady who had managed to do a week's worth of shopping without using a cart and another lady who was screaming in Korean because she expected all the discounts from the sale that starts tomorrow today.
Yes, I recognize Korean profanities. Along with being a master janitor, it's one of the things I picked up in the Army. Shibbal Shibalnyun!
Anyway, I'm a mostly patient man. I scanned tabloid headlines while awaiting my face time with the retail sector. Then someone behind me pokes me in the arm.
A power-suited middle-aged woman. Dressed like a realtor in one of those horrid billboards.
"Can I slip ahead of you? I only have a few things."
She had at least ten items.
"Um, I only have one, and I really have a hard time standing for long periods." I point to my cane. "I'm recovering from a stroke."
That should have ended it, right?
"I'm really in a hurry here." Arms crossed, glaring like it's my fault she's running late.
"Again, I have one thing, and a medical need to not stand around for a long time." I was reaching critical levels of tired, overstimulated, and annoyed. "Lady, you can wait the minute my purchase is going to take."
"You're very rude."
At that point, the urge to dump the entire candy rack on the belt and ask that each be a separate transaction was nigh-overwhelming. But I took the high road. I was the adult.
Stop laughing.
What I did was open an auction for my place in line, bidding starting at $100 dollars. The only other person in line laughed out loud.
By that point, No Shopping Cart Girl was being loaded like a Sherpa with various bags. Cashier scanned my meat (maybe this should have gone to Penthouse...); I had my credit card in hand; swipe, PIN, approve, here's your receipt.
As I picked up my bag of rendered Bossie I happened to see what Miss Impatience 2014 was pulling out of her knock-off Coach bag.
A checkbook.
I have come to the conclusion that people who still use checkbooks in markets are in fact demons from hell sent to torment me.
Wait, wrong story.
Today I had to run a few errands. Go vote (I still love going to the polls in person. Something about the whole ritual of it pleases me) and then take
kshandra's PT Cruiser, Barnum, to get smogged.These are the kind of things that tend to tire me out these days.. driving a car I'm not overly familiar with, having to think about voting, etc. But I realized there was one more thing I could do while out and about.
Last night Kiri had gone to make burgers, only to discover that our patties had gone from freezer burned to freezer cremated. Since our favorite auto care place is just a block or so from Smart & Final, I texted Kiri to ask if I should get more dead cow. Got the green light.
So there I am, with one (1) bag o'dead ground-up cow in my basket. The store had one register open. I got in line behind a lady who had managed to do a week's worth of shopping without using a cart and another lady who was screaming in Korean because she expected all the discounts from the sale that starts tomorrow today.
Yes, I recognize Korean profanities. Along with being a master janitor, it's one of the things I picked up in the Army. Shibbal Shibalnyun!
Anyway, I'm a mostly patient man. I scanned tabloid headlines while awaiting my face time with the retail sector. Then someone behind me pokes me in the arm.
A power-suited middle-aged woman. Dressed like a realtor in one of those horrid billboards.
"Can I slip ahead of you? I only have a few things."
She had at least ten items.
"Um, I only have one, and I really have a hard time standing for long periods." I point to my cane. "I'm recovering from a stroke."
That should have ended it, right?
"I'm really in a hurry here." Arms crossed, glaring like it's my fault she's running late.
"Again, I have one thing, and a medical need to not stand around for a long time." I was reaching critical levels of tired, overstimulated, and annoyed. "Lady, you can wait the minute my purchase is going to take."
"You're very rude."
At that point, the urge to dump the entire candy rack on the belt and ask that each be a separate transaction was nigh-overwhelming. But I took the high road. I was the adult.
Stop laughing.
What I did was open an auction for my place in line, bidding starting at $100 dollars. The only other person in line laughed out loud.
By that point, No Shopping Cart Girl was being loaded like a Sherpa with various bags. Cashier scanned my meat (maybe this should have gone to Penthouse...); I had my credit card in hand; swipe, PIN, approve, here's your receipt.
As I picked up my bag of rendered Bossie I happened to see what Miss Impatience 2014 was pulling out of her knock-off Coach bag.
A checkbook.
I have come to the conclusion that people who still use checkbooks in markets are in fact demons from hell sent to torment me.
