I was making some brownies earlier tonight, and discovered quite last minute that I was out of peanut butter chips. I said some swear words, covered the brownie batter with plastic wrap, said some more swear words, put on my coat, and got in the car to drive to Kroger, which is the nearest store to my house. The entire trip should have taken no more than 15 minutes.
When I got to the store, the parking lot was a madhouse. After locating a parking space, I walked inside to find the entire floral department (which I had to walk through in order to get where I needed to go) abuzz with dumbasses standing around with bouquets in their hands, none of them knowing what to do next. I finally made my way through them, got to the “Baking Needs” aisle, and on the other side of two unattended shopping carts (the owners were standing about 5 feet away, yammering on about some kind of inane bullshit), I found an empty Reese’s® Peanut Butter Chips display box. I began to scan the shelves frantically, looking for an inferior store brand peanut butter chip, but to no avail (one more reason why Marsh is the superior large grocery chain in southern Indiana). As I began to leave the aisle, one of the women whose cart was in my way issued a half-assed apology to me.
I decided to check the natural foods section and found a bag of organic peanut butter chips for 9 FUCKING DOLLARS. I said “Fuck this!” (quite out loud), and decided to grab a bag of Reese’s® Pieces, along with a couple of other things I needed, and get the hell out of there. I had to weave my way around and through more dumbasses standing around in front of the Valentine’s Day displays, got my three items, and proceeded to the self-checkout, because with very few exceptions, the Kroger stores in this town are not known for having friendly cashiers. I scanned my three items, pressed the button to proceed to the payment screen, and then the screen informed me that the attendant had been notified to assist me (for absolutely no apparent reason, I might add – all three items were scanned and bagged, I had no coupons, and I was paying with my debit card).
A full 15 seconds passed while I shot eye-daggers of hatred into the back of the attendant’s head, then she looked up at her computer screen, pressed a button, and my transaction was finished. I zipped through a final run of morons, made it out the door and back to the car, pulled out of my spot, and was almost backed into by some jackass who could not manage to park their giant goddamn SUV. Then I got stuck behind another jackass, who was waiting in the main thoroughfare (without a turn signal, of course) while some dipshit took forever to back their car out of their parking space, so the no-turn-signal-using jackass could park as close to the door as possible (to go and stand around the Valentine’s Day displays like a dumbass, I’m sure).
What’s the point of all this, you ask? The point is that I listened to Vio-Lence on the way home, and it made me feel better.
Happy Thrash Thursday.