So I get off work early today and realize that I need some essentials from the store like bacon, bread, the latest issue of Handloader magazine and especially Ultra Plush 4 Ply Charmin asswipe.
Now the market I go to ain't exactly highbrow - it's the kind of place where you can take a dip of Copenhagen in the produce section and nobody will look twice at you. The reason I go there is because it's only a couple of blocks from my house, I've been trading there for better than 10 years and all the clerks know me and, well, I can take a dip of Copenhagen in the produce section if I want.
While I'm in the store I'm picking up some other stuff as well and let me tell you what, that fucking place is PACKED!!! Everybody's out doing their last minute shopping for the big day tomorrow. Hey, I can dig that, I myself had made a run by the bait shop on my way home from work and picked up some Rapalas.
When I'm ready I pick the shortest line which only has about 10 people in it and amuse myself by flipping items from the end-of-aisle merchandise into the cart of the guy in front of me. Anything to make the time pass, you know?
I finally get up to the belt and start unloading my stuff on it and this nicely dressed woman comes charging up past me with a jar of marshmallow creme in her hand, jumps in line in front of me and says "I'm not waiting in line. I only have this one item."
Now, had she asked nicely I would've allowed her to pass if nobody behind me had any objections. But don't be acting like your time is more valuable than mine, okay?
So I tell her "The fuck you ain't, lady. Get your ass to the back of the line."
She acts all shocked like she's never heard anybody say ain't before. C'mon now, it's a common term.
"But all I have is one item!" she says.
"Yeah, and all I got is 23 items. Now git."
Paul, the clerk, is giving the guy in front of me a refund for the 6 packs of gum, chapstick, beef jerky and pepper spray that I tossed in his cart and is trying to ignore the situation.
"Hey Paulie, make this snob go to the back of the line, man."
"Kenny, I'm getting off work in 5 minutes and I don't need this right now. Cool your heels and let her go, please. PLEASE?" he says as he rings her up.
I finally get rung up, bagged up and head for my truck. As I'm wandering along, I notice a Lexus with an Obama sticker in the back window and la-de-da, guess who's behind the wheel giving me a smug-ass smile?
She wasn't smiling for long. A big load of tobacco juice went skidding across her windshield.
And I made sure she got a good look at my Fuck Obama sticker as I was departing.