If there’s one thing that will ruin a good mood, it’s a trip to the supermarket. No matter how long I am in a grocery store, I quickly reach the anger level of wanting to scream at the top of my lungs because even the most intelligent of people quickly insert their heads firmly up their asses the second they cross the threshold. I swear once people start searching the shelves for the product they desire the completely forget other people exist and zone out on their surroundings. Hello, I’m standing here two inches from your oblivious self, looking directly at you because you are blocking the entire aisle, your shopping cart blocking one half, your big, over-fed ass completely blocking the other half. Do you seriously need to stare at the sugar coated cereals that hard? I mean you know if it’s primary ingredient is sugar, you’re going to eat it. Just grab a fucking box and move on, elephant woman. And no, you don’t need to go over all the ingredients for tonight’s entire menu right here in front of the coffee grinder. I know you think you’re standing in your living room and don’t even know I exist but it happens to be the ONLY coffee grinder in the store (ie: your living room) so I would kind of like to grind up my beans in it, please. Or if it’s too much trouble for you to take two steps to the left, I could just take the coffee home as is and use a hammer to smash them for my morning coffee. The Roommate will really love that clatter while he sleeps in.
But the absolute worst plague of the dash in and out grocery shopper is the insufferable mother who has to use every waking moment of the day to entertain her offspring. I seriously don’t understand why grocery shopping needs to be playtime for a toddler. I don’t need your rug rat pushing their own tiny shopping cart at a snail’s pace down the center of the frozen food section, creating a rush hour traffic nightmare for those of us who don’t particularly have the entire afternoon devoted to a grocery shopping play date. Instead of instructing your child to pick out the red box of cookies, “Does Booboo see the red box of cookies? Red cookie box? Find the red box.”. Instead of color theory classes how about you drag your obese offspring over to the produce section and do a real quick nutrition lesson. “Broccoli is better than cookies! Eat green!” And don’t get me started on those oversized shopping carts that are shaped like cars or seat several toddlers at once. Sweetie, you parents don’t know how to drive them in the first place and if your mother pushes it’s front bumper into the back of my ankles ONE MORE TIME I’m going to LOSE IT ON HER ASS. Lock the kids in the car while you shop, like my mom always did, and FYI, you never saw me complain. Mainly because I hate grocery shopping.
Heavy sigh. I’m off to the grocery store as having food in the house is kind of a basic necessary. And if I scream at your shopping cart for blocking my way, I hope you understand and get the children out of the area. They may be learning new words that you probably don’t want your little bastard to hear at the grocery today.
PS I have an idea! I'm going to start a chain of grocery stores that have an entire aisle of hard liquor, everything from bitters to everclear! That way minors aren't allowed to come in. Plus the obvious bonus of one stop shopping.
3 comments:
AMEN sister!
Wow. Glad to see your mood is improving.
Peace out baby.
Now that is my kind of anger! Yeah. But you gotta lay off the cereal critique; I must have my Cocoa Puffs. They're munch cruchy chocalatey!
Oh,and when global warming gets so bad nobody can tolerate the temperature outside; I'm going to live under the continuous misters in the produce isle...right next to my bag of waterlogged carrots!
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