Tuesday, September 20, 2005

People at the Counter

I don't have anything interesting to write about, although I've had some odd occurrences the last two days while waiting in line to buy stuff at certain retail places. Let's start at KFC, where my buddy Kupe and I stopped at yesterday while working (yes, Kupe has now joined the ranks of poolman...you can try to stay away, but the temptation is just too strong, you will all turn)

As we're pulling into the place, which has the smallest damned parking lot and no parking, I'm forced to put it in reverse to move out of the way of a lady and her minivan pulling out of a spot. As I back up, I hear what sounds like a cat screaming as if it's leg is being bit (I know this sound well). When I look back, I see a gigantic fat man (probably about 400 lbs....Kupe, back me up here) who is joking around as if I was going to hit him.

After I park, we go inside and fatty and his friend are in line ahead of us. He throws out the humorous, "I didn't want to mess up your truck" and moves on to his ordering. He then proceeds to order a six pack of chicken, the barbeque zingers meal, a bacon ranch chicken sandwich, and one of those baby chicken sandwiches. Then, he turns to his buddy and says, "What do you want?"

I swear, you can't make this shit up.

Shoppers Food Warehouse
Amy was making tamales or something like that last night and she wanted me to pick up some chili powder and kidney beans on my way home to complete the recipe. I swing into Shoppers (which is a miserable place to go after work...right at dinner time), grab what I need and head to the Express Line. There are two Express Lines here, one for 10 or less and one for 15 or less items. There are four people in the 10 or less and only three in the 15, so I head to that one. Usually, this wouldn't necessarily be the best move, but then I notice it. Arguably the most despicable thing anyone can do.

Lady #2 in the 10 or less line is starting to put her stuff on the conveyer...and she's got like 35 things?!!!? I mean, I can accept maybe 12, even 15...but sweet fucking christ, she's not even close. The lady in front of her brought this to my attention as she is shaking her head in disgust as she looks back at the lady behind her.

Who in the hell does this lady think she is?!! I'm pegging her for a foreigner until she speaks perfect English to her bratty little demon child who is wandering about making a fuss. Thank god I chose the other line or I would hurt someone...but I continue to give her the dirty looks. She must learn that what she is doing is intolerable and I will give her enough head shakes and eye rolls, that she will know this move will not stand if I was in the line.

By this point, the line has grown to almost 7 behind her and the man in the John Riggins jersey could go postal. I would have stayed around to see the fireworks but I actually left before this bitch even got finished paying...and of course, she was using a debit card and wanted money back.

I bet she parked in the handicapped spot too.

This afternoon, my brother and I headed over to Target after work to get some Gatorades. They're only $.99 for the 32 oz., which is a great deal since 7-11 is charging $1.99 for the same thing. I do my best Supermarket Sweep (you know you watched that show, don't try and judge me) impression as I sweep 12 of them off the shelf and into my cart, as my bro does the same thing.

On a side note, there is this smokin' hot kinda trashy blond chick at the cases of Coke just down the way from us, and she is dying as I pull this stunt. I'm gonna go out on a limb and say she wanted to bang me right there and then...but I shop there too often, and I don't want to get banned, so it's her loss.

We make our way to the register and there are about five to choose from. I've been here a bunch, so I pull a quick left and head for one of the recessed ones, which confuses my brother. Target is notorious for this, you almost don't know there is a second tier of registers and there will sometimes be up to 5 people at one of the first tier registers while the second tier checkout girl is just chillin.

Anyway, I make the move for the second tier and my brother yells, "Where are you going?" I quickly respond, "I'm going down this one." and motion my head. Now we are about 15 feet from each other because of my aggressive move, as he yells back, "There's no one there."

And here's where is starts the downhill turn.... So, I yell back, "Yeah dude, there's this chick right here." I'm about five feet from the register when I say this, and then I realize, it's not a chick, it's a man...a very feminine, almost Crying Game-esque man.

Yeah, and I'm the jerk now.


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DeCoMpOsEd said...

fucken spammers ... haha...something like happened to me before ... i told a friend who was the girl i had seen him with earlier and it turned out to be his brother.