I Hate Me, part 244,010
I went to Foodtown to pick up some stuff. It was early afternoon and crowded with old people, this is never good. I went to the deli counter and was waiting, in front of me was an old guy in one one of those motorized shopping carts that the store supplies, they’re like a prehistoric Rascal. They always look cool in a “if I had the balls, I’d use one of those to shop one day, it would be cool or stupid, probably stupid” type way. Anyhow, they’re about the size of a twin bed, are always in the way and move very slowly. So I thought the old guy in the motor cart had ordered and when the deli guy asked if I needed help, Grandpa Munster piped in “I’m next, I’m before him… jesus.” I shrugged and said, fine. A short while earlier when I was at home, I was cutting up some hot peppers and got some hot pepper juice in my eye. It was brutal and my eye was still red and little teary. So the old guy was glaring at me thinking I was trying to cut him and he sees my red teary eye, “You don’t have to cry about it, I was first.” I was somewhat taken aback and tried to explain about the hot pepper and he put up his hand, “aaaachh..I’m ordering here…Yeah, I want two orders of beef stew.. two small orders of stew….Noooo, that’s too small…..Nooo, that’s too big…There’s nothin’ in the middle?…jesus…Gimme the big one but don’t fill it up.” I ordered my chicken and raced to the check out, where I had the small satisfaction of getting ahead of him in line.