I had to flip a coin regarding posting this in The Pit or MPSIMS, and The Pit lost. The reason is this pitting borders on being recreational in nature.
I went to the local WallyWorld yesterday to drop off some prescriptions. A mundane and unexciting everyday task.
Ever so HIPAA compliant, WallyWorld clearly marks where people should line up for the drop off window, with the next in line person being roughly 15 feet from the window. Both windows are busy, but there’s no one else waiting. I dutifully get in line at the proper place like good sheeple are supposed to. Oh, and one of the two drop off windows closes.
About halfway through what turns out to be a five minute wait, some guy walks up and gets in line behind the old lady who is taking too much time at the open window. I had been line jumped the previous week while waiting to pay for gasoline, and I wasn’t about to let it happen again.
“The line is behind me, Bub.”
The guy looks up at me, at first confused, then torked off. “What did you say?”
“I said, the line is behind me.”
“What did you call me?”
“That would be Bub.” :dubious:
I don’t know about him or the rest of you, but where I come from, on a ten scale of aggressive language, where calling someone ‘buddy’, ‘pal’, ‘chum’, or ‘hey you’ is a 1, and ‘Motherfucker’ with inserted ethnic slur is a 10, ‘Bub’ rates a 2.
He cops an officious tone to his voice. “I don’t like being addressed in that manner!”
I replied, “And I won’t tolerate someone line jumping me.”
“I wasn’t line jumping…”, and he follows up with a string of profanity and, “I ought to kick your ass!” About that time, the window opens up, and I went to conduct my business, leaving him to stew where he stood.
He verbally threatened me in line, but I was much more amused by the absurdity of the situation than becoming enraged, so I decided that I’m mess with him on the way out. When I was done with the pharmacy clerk, I turned to him, saw the daggers coming from his eyes, and gave him a scrunched faced grin, pissing him off even more. With the words “You better wait for me, asshole!” still ringing in my ears, I flipped him off and walked away without looking back.
Since I put this in The Pit, I’ll add an obligatory mild rant.
I called you ‘Bub’, not cheesedick, nor asshole, nor shit-for-brains, or even ‘douchebag’. You were the one being the jerk, and now you want to take a swing at me because I had the gumption to call you on your jerk behavior in a public place and I embarrassed you. Well tough titty. I bet 3rd grade recess was hell for you, too.
You need to pick your fights better. We may be of similar height and weight, but I’m ten years younger and in a lot better shape, and I have a few aces up my sleeve that give me the advantage. You better give me the name of your next of kin and the hospital you want to be transported to before you take that first swing there, Bub.
I’ll have to open that can of whoopass on you in self defense, and then I’d have to treat your injuries because I’m an EMT. Bub, you ain’t worth the effort or the medical supplies I carry.
