Your such an A-SS-HO-LE Psi.
I have put off writting a cronicles of the supermarket for quite sometime now. There is a giant supermarket right between my office and home. The kind of market (ShopRite) that has everything. Fresh made lunches, dinners and of course Sushi and cigarettes. It really is the only place on my way home to pick up anything and everything all in one shot. Needless to say I stop by there at least 4-5 times a week and the stories I could tell you would fill a modest sized coffee table book.
I share my community with some of these "people" and its a scary scary thing;
The old couple pulling into a spot: The husband pulls half way in (backwards) and the wife gets out and starts directing him back. "A little more" "a little more" as her hand waves frantically back and forth, WHACK! he backs right into the bumper of the car behind him. Why didn't the wife say "that'll do it"? The fact that she was at the FRONT of the car waving him back played a part in it.
The anything to save a dime lady: The store sells cigarettes at the courtesy counter and I have become friendly with the staff, its usually 2 of the same 5 or 6 girls that work there. We always get a good laugh at people whose receipts shows a discrapancy. Usually a dollar or two sometimes less. One fine day I was at said counter and the lady in front of me was arguing over a fUcking dime. She was charged an extra 10¢ on something she thought was on sale but it wasn't in the circular for that store but in a circular for a different Shop Rite.
After a couple minutes of arguing and phone calls, the poor girls behind the counter were getting yelled at and the situation had yet to resolve itself (why they didn't just open the register I have no clue). I decided to take action, fished through my pockets for some change, tapped the lady on the shoulder and handed her a quarter. She just stared at me as I moved myself in front of her and ordered my smokes.
Media fed chicken: It was Oktoberfest last year I believe (maybe St Pats) regardless, I was picking up some chicken, beef and sausage to make me and the wifey a feast. While eyeing the chicken a lady pokes in front of me and takes damn near an entire row of drum sticks. Then a whole row of thigh/breast combos. I looked at her for a brief second and opened the door (inadvertinely) to a conversation. She preaches to me that bird flu is coming and that the news told her to stock up on chicken now before its all tainted. I quickly disagreed with her (I hate media driven panic) telling her that things are getting blown out of proportion...was cut off by a stern shaking of the head and a "the news talked about ot last night, you should stock up." I just laughed and said ok.
I don't need to hear about Bryce's day at the beach: I just want to check out! Cell phones have ruined super markets, as I am sure a lot of us have seen. Numerous times have I been run into or cut off by someone on a cell phone, half the time they don't notice and just keep walking. I tend to run back into them and I get a look of disgust.
One day me and the Mrs and I are in the check out line and one lane over from us this real yuppie looking lady is also checking out. You know the type, labrador sticker on the car, yacht club sweater (in the Summer) etc etc. Gabbing on the phone as the check out lady rings up her purchases. Stuff starts piling up at the end right next to where the lady is gabbing away about Taylor and Bryce's day at the beach. The check out lady stops ringing stuff up, cause there is no more room for the merchandise to go. She frantically starts bagging and bagging as Mrs. bob-cut chats about what time dinner is at the yacht club and whether to bring the kids or just ignore them as usual. The check out lady is getting pissed now she has a huge *** line and not even half way through this one customer.
We finish bagging and head to the car, then walk to the nail salon so Danielle can get her eyebrows done, I stay outside and have a cigarette. About 10-12 minutes have elapsed since we left Mrs. Pendersmit and finally here she comes, still on the phone headed to her suburban utility vehicle. They have lanes with baggers in it, why she wasted 15 minutes of everyones life in aisle 12 I'll never know.
Those are just a sampling of the 400 or so stories that I have had the pleasure of being a part of these past 3 years. Oh and I park to the side of the building and farther back as to avoid foot traffic, other cars and spot sharks.