If you don't know what it is...

[Imogene]

... and I keep asking you, "What is this?"
Do NOT keep fucking responding with, "I know what we call it on the islands, but not what it's called here..."
Give me something to work with... I don't even recognize whether that's a fruit or a vegetable. I've never seen those in the store, and you're expecting me to flip through our system of produce to find this one FUCKING item that you can't even give me the first clue as to what it is?
FUCK YOU!

Also, I do NOT want to have to tell your grown ass son for a fourth time: DO NOT LEAN on the SCALE! YOU'RE SCREWING EVERYTHING UP! I was continuously clearing errors on the weight for this guy and his two sons because they didn't understand not to lean on the bagging area, and would just scan items and put them in a bag and put the bag in their cart! And then, stare at the screen, and wonder why it wasn't fucking working.

Seeing as I have three other registers running at roughly the same amount of sheer idiocy while you're crowding around MY SPACE! I'm going to keep dodging out from next to you to help THEM! I hate people creeping into my space like that, particularly when they're wearing some horrible cologne that's getting right up into me and exacerbating the headache you've been giving me.

I walked away, and my brain could breath suddenly, and I clicked on to "Could that shit be Taro root?"
I turn back to fucker and his sons, and say, "Is that Taro root?"
"We already found it."
*head asplodey* Fine! *STAB STAB STAB* And that's why I murdered him, your honor.

[bainsidhe]

I hate people creeping into my space like that, particularly when they're wearing some horrible cologne that's getting right up into me and exacerbating the headache you've been giving me.

Ugh, the cologne bathers. I'm rather sensitive to smells, so that even ringing out dryer sheets makes me queazy. Anything with lots of perfume like cleaners, candles and people makes my stomach flip-flop and lately, causes me to start coughing horribly. My lungs burn. So when I politely tell you that I'm sorry, I'm sensitive to perfumes and could you please not stand right friggin' next to me, don't get huffy and tell me how good it smells, how I don't appreciate good cologne, or how expensive it is. I can't breathe. Asshole.