So, it being Friday and I’m out of groceries, I decide to run to the grocery store down the street from my office to get lunch at their salad bar. The store is only two miles away, and it’s usually a quick, easy option for lunch.
All is well as I get a bit of meat and cheese from the deli and some veggies from the salad bar. It’s only when I walk up to the checkout area that I notice it. The lines. The huge lines on the mere 2 aisles they have open. Fuck me.
Herein lies Part I of the rant:
You stupid managerial fucks…how about not letting all of your asslicking cashiers take their lunch breaks DURING THE WEASELHUMPING LUNCH RUSH!!! How about it, huh? It’s Friday. It’s lunchtime. There are a million people in the store. Can you not engage your teeny tiny brain and call up the lessons you learned at The Bumblefuck School of Business that dictate that during your rush periods, you actually KEEP THE STAFF AT THEIR POSTS!!! This is not a difficult concept. Do restaurants let their waitstaff eat dinner during the dinner rush? Do hotels let their housekeeping staff take vacation during the big convention? No. See? They managed to learn the lesson…WHY CAN’T YOU???
So anyway…I get in line with my lunch, behind the dozen other people who are grumbling about how stupid it is that the lines should be this bad during lunch. My ire begins to abate as we wind our way up to the cashier, since the cashier (one of the blessed two on duty) seems to be pretty on the ball and the line is moving well. It gets down to one person in front of me, and then I notice that what I thought was a normal patron was actually the superhero, Clueless Wonder, in disguise.
Herein lies Part II of the rant:
Listen up, you twatsniffing throbbing pustule…you were complaining about the long line with the rest of us. Did it ever occur to you that once your items were rung up, that you’d…oh, I don’t know…BE REQUIRED TO PAY FOR THEM?? Get your wallet out of your ratfucking purse before the cashier is done ringing you up. Open your ratfucking wallet and remove some money. Kindly extract your ratfucking discount card from your skanky ass and present it to the cashier before she tells you your total so that she doesn’t have to scan it and readjust what you owe, thereby confusing your inferior intellect and necessitating a complete recount of your funds. Asswhistle.
OK…deep breaths. I’m remaining calm, even though the cashier finishes ringing me up and my credit card transaction is completed and signed before the above asswhistle customer actually collects herself and moves out of my way. But things are good…I have my lunch, it’s paid for, I may now leave. Everything is lovely until I get up to the exit of the parking lot, which requires me to turn left across a three-lane road (two travel lanes and a turning lane).
Herein lies Part III of the rant:
While I appreciate what you think is kindly generosity in trying to wave me out in front of you as you wait to turn into the parking lot, Mr. Got My Driver’s License From a Gumball Machine, you’re actually CREATING A TRAFFIC JAM AND ENDANGERING US BOTH!! For fuck’s sake, it is MY responsibility, as the one pulling out into traffic, to wait until there is a clear and safe opportunity to do so. It is not YOUR responsibility to do what you think the neighborly thing and try to wave me out when there is still a line of traffic coming up behind you in the travel lane. Just because you don’t see anyone coming from my left DOESN’T MEAN THAT THERE IS NO TRAFFIC ANYWHERE ELSE!!! Gah!! Get off the road, you’re a danger to yourself and others!!
For the love of fuck, it should NOT take me over half an hour to get a takeout lunch from a store less than 2 miles from my office.
Asshats, every last one of them. Grrrr.