I've got some good news and some bad news. The bad news, as you can tell is that I have yet to change my layout like I said I would. I've let you down again, are you surprised? Didn't think so. The good news is that I'm actually starting to get back into the mood to update this thing so, yippee.

We live in a cheap, petty, materialistic society, and I'm sick of it. It never ceases to amaze me, the lengths that some asshole, or bitch, will go to to save a few cents. Not dollars, cents. I've been fighting a sinus headache since Friday and it's been kicking my ass. Plus, since I've been working late each night, we've been eating late. Last night, we're watching Buffy and the wife and I are trying to decide what we want for supper. She's in the midst of her time of the month and needs more tampons so I offer to go to the bank, get some money, go by the store, get some tampons and soda (thinking of my needs too) and then I'd run by the Steak Shop and get some food. No biggie. I leave just as Angel is starting at 9:00. Head throbbing to the tune of "Fixxer" by Metallica I zip to the bank get some cash and head to the store. Elapsed time, less than 5 minutes. Good start.

Head still throbbing, I meander to the "feminine needs" aisle looking for the "o.b." label. They didn't have the Super Plus that the wife normally gets so I have to settle for Super absorbancy and make my way to the soda. Luckily, on the way down the feminine needs aisle, I spot some Tylenol Sinus medicine across from the tampons. Things are looking up. Even better is the fact that I get to the soda aisle and Diet Coke is on sale, 3 12-packs for $7. Kiiiick Assss. Elapsed time: 5 minutes. Express check-out here I come.

Holy Fuckin' Shit! Not only are all 10 check-out lines open and rather busy, but the longest line is, you guessed it, at the Express Checkout. Well, it can't take too long, I mean, it's 10 items or less. Of course, the sign doesn't say anything about the items being something they fuckin' sell at Winn Dixie. The lady at the front of the line apparently found something on a shelf somewhere that has not been put into the computer. They can't find any more like it for a price check, but, dammit, she's gotta have it. So, the check-out girl, Wideline (I shit you not), who looks as excited as a corpse calls a manager over to do something about it. She finally gets it taken care of and the line moves.

The next few people go through pretty quickly, but I'm getting kind of pissed at this guy ahead of the people ahead of me. All he has is a jar of soup and a 6-pack of St. Pauli Girl beer, but he's standing there reading a fuckin' Newsweek and isn't moving forward. He finally sees the SUV sized gap in the line, puts the magazine down, on top of the candy, NOT back where he got it, and grabs his soup/beer and moves up. Cool, we're moving now. My arms were killing me from holding these 3 12-packs kind of awkwardly so I sit them down and scoot them across the floor.

After another 10 minutes, it seems like, I get to the end of the belt and put my stuff on the conveyor, with the handy little separator so that the people in front of me don't get their fruit drink mixed in with my tampons and sinus medicine. And then it happens. I half hear in my left ear "But the sign said $5.59." I look up and it's Mr. Newsweek. His beer rang up as $6.29, and it doesn't jibe with him. Fuck. After standing there having a mini-staredown, Wideline (what kind of fuckin' name is that?), sends Kev-dog, the severely uninterested and put-upon black grocery bagger guy to go and do a price check. The guy stops and looks at everything on the way over to the beer aisle, which, by the way, we can see from the checkout line. He's gone for about 5 minutes and then comes back shaking his head. "I can't find it." Mr. Newsweek starts giving directions. What next?

Wideline, shaking her head and openly aggrivated, waddles over to the beer aisle and is gone less than 30 seconds and heads back. On her way, she stops by the service desk to say something to the manager there and then heads back over to the checkout, shaking her head in annoyance. She tells Mr. Newsweek, "It's $5.99 plus tax which is six sumpin'". Not one to be outdone, he says, "The sign said $5.59, do you want me to show you?" and starts heading to the beer aisle, with Kev-dog in tow, but Wideload stops him and says she'll go. By this time, I'm ready to say "Fuck this! It's only 70 cents! Put his fuckin' beer on my ticket I'm tired of fuckin' standing in line!" But I don't. After about a minute, Mr. Newsweek comes sauntering over, a victorious grin on his face, eyeing everone in the checkout line. I'm sure if looks could kill, he wouldn't have made it back in line. Wideload stops again to talk to the manager and then comes back to the register, voids out the $6.29, re-enters the $5.59 and checks the asshole out. He even had the nerve, as she handed him his receipt to say "Thank you so much." Get out of here before I shove my foot up your ass to the knee! Prick!

Needless to say, 45 minutes later, I'm finally getting checked out. Steak Shop, here I come. I can almost smell those cheese fries. I can hear my arteries hardening right now. I can...not fuckin' believe that they're closed! Goddamnit!!! I ended up spending too much time in line behind Mr. Scrooge and now the place is closed. It's a good thing the wife didn't need those tampons very bad, she could have bled to death. So, cursing everything I can think of, I head back home and stop off at the McDonald's across the street. Yummy. I barely made it there before they closed. But you know what the oddest thing was? After all that shit, my headache went away. Guess my body can only take so much aggrivation and punishment and my head shut down due to overload. Small victory.

It just sickens me to no end that people are so fuckin' petty. Of course, it's people like me who probably make it possible for stores to overcharge people since I don't bitch about stuff. $6.99? But the tag said $4.50. Oh well, maybe I read the wrong one. Go ahead. I just don't like making waves I guess. It definitely wasn't one of my best nights.

Well, that's about it for this entry. Not much substance, but at least it's long. Heh. I'm thinking about coming back later on in the afternoon and doing another one. I've got something I really want to get off my chest. I would have done it here, but the story from last night just had to get itself told. Anyway, you should all get ready, because my next entry is going to step on a few toes and probably piss a few people off. What's it about? Well, over the weekend, I watched "The 100 Greatest artists of Hard Rock" on VH1 and I have a few qualms with some of their choices and where they were placed. So, if you're a Led Zepplin, Pearl Jam, or Nirvana fan, you might want to go get something to hit, or get a big grain of salt. I'm not holding back, baby! See ya next time.

Icebear

 

 

previous - next