Tweet
So my gf and I went to the grocery store to pick up some stuff for dinner. As we only had about 7 or 8 items, we figured the express lane was the way to go. There was one elderly couple being rung up, followed by a woman in her mid-30's, with her mother and 3 kids in tow.
The elderly couple had less than 12 items, so they had every right to be in the express lane. It took them a few minutes to unload their cart, as they were buying a gallon of milk, and some large bottles of detergent. No big deal. It then took them another few minutes to put everything back in their cart and to pay. No big deal. It wasn't too long to wait.
Apparantly the woman who dragged her whole family to the grocery store took exception to this. She started rolling her eyes, huffing and puffing, and complaining that this was an express line, and that she didn't have time to wait.
Her oh-so-important purchase? A box of garbage bags. Yup. She's bitching over having to wait for garbage bags. And she's doing it loud enough for the couple to hear, and I can see it's bothering them a bit. I mean, clearly it wasn't east for them to lift everything they had purchased, and the husband was walkin around on a crutch, so how fast could they really be expected to move?
She's the kind of person that doesn't quite get the express concept. The lane is express because it's for people buying a few items, not because people sprint through the fucking lane! She's the same kind of person who will pull up to a pharmacy drive thru window, drop off a prescription, and expect it to be filled that second. It doesn't quite work like that.
Well, I couldn't let this go unpunished, so I had to chime in a little. I started huffing and puffing myself, being overy dramatic about the whole thing. I started rolling my eyes, and saying quite loudly "Oh my gawd, this is supposed to be an express lane! I can't be made to wait around like this! Don't you people know how important I am?"
Naturally, I got the look of death from this woman's mother, but it didn't seem like she heard me. So I had to press on, of course. I started copying her stance, her mannerisms, and even her accent. I even banged my hand on the belt and said "What's the point of having express if it's gonna go this slow? I NEED my trash bags!"
This brought the look of death from the woman as well. The poor cashier was trying so hard not to laugh that he had tears in his eyes, as did the people behind us on line.
The asshat paid for her stuff and left. I kept carrying on with the cashier while he was ringing, and the poor kid couldn't stop laughing. I figured he needed it after dealing with her.
When we got into the parking lot, we passed the old couple, who had just finished loading their groceries into their car. The woman was ranting in Italian. Growing up in my family, I learned a few words here and there. The only word I recognized that she spit out was putana. I started laughing when I heard that, and she looked up, recognized me, and smiled. At least it ended well.
The elderly couple had less than 12 items, so they had every right to be in the express lane. It took them a few minutes to unload their cart, as they were buying a gallon of milk, and some large bottles of detergent. No big deal. It then took them another few minutes to put everything back in their cart and to pay. No big deal. It wasn't too long to wait.
Apparantly the woman who dragged her whole family to the grocery store took exception to this. She started rolling her eyes, huffing and puffing, and complaining that this was an express line, and that she didn't have time to wait.
Her oh-so-important purchase? A box of garbage bags. Yup. She's bitching over having to wait for garbage bags. And she's doing it loud enough for the couple to hear, and I can see it's bothering them a bit. I mean, clearly it wasn't east for them to lift everything they had purchased, and the husband was walkin around on a crutch, so how fast could they really be expected to move?
She's the kind of person that doesn't quite get the express concept. The lane is express because it's for people buying a few items, not because people sprint through the fucking lane! She's the same kind of person who will pull up to a pharmacy drive thru window, drop off a prescription, and expect it to be filled that second. It doesn't quite work like that.
Well, I couldn't let this go unpunished, so I had to chime in a little. I started huffing and puffing myself, being overy dramatic about the whole thing. I started rolling my eyes, and saying quite loudly "Oh my gawd, this is supposed to be an express lane! I can't be made to wait around like this! Don't you people know how important I am?"
Naturally, I got the look of death from this woman's mother, but it didn't seem like she heard me. So I had to press on, of course. I started copying her stance, her mannerisms, and even her accent. I even banged my hand on the belt and said "What's the point of having express if it's gonna go this slow? I NEED my trash bags!"
This brought the look of death from the woman as well. The poor cashier was trying so hard not to laugh that he had tears in his eyes, as did the people behind us on line.
The asshat paid for her stuff and left. I kept carrying on with the cashier while he was ringing, and the poor kid couldn't stop laughing. I figured he needed it after dealing with her.
When we got into the parking lot, we passed the old couple, who had just finished loading their groceries into their car. The woman was ranting in Italian. Growing up in my family, I learned a few words here and there. The only word I recognized that she spit out was putana. I started laughing when I heard that, and she looked up, recognized me, and smiled. At least it ended well.
Your dad rocks! I wish I had the nerve to say that to some of the express morons that get in front of me!
Will your dad adopt me, too? 
Comment