I spent 30 minutes waiting for someone to cut fabric for me at Walmart. I was a bit miffed, but I smiled through the whole ordeal. The person that radioed the management commented on how nice I was the whole time and how that surprised her.
Then I lucked out when I went to the cashiers. One was standing at the end, bored. I went and put my stuff on the conveyor belt.
...only then did I realize that I picked the wrong one. I always make an effort to avoid this autistic pile, but I wasn't paying attention. As he scanned my items very slowly, he paused to clearly consider them for at least 20 seconds apiece. He would then comment his personal opinion and make a judgement about my tastes - as if was ****ing asking him to. The entire time, his scent of B.O. wafted towards me and embedded in my clothes. I was informed that:
The frozen pizza I bought was a good deal for everything that was on it, but it had thin crust so it was gross.
Pomegranates are a terrible flavor for a 5 hour energy shot, and he didn't know why I picked them.
It doesn't make sense that a person would make a purchase of 4.338 yd. of fabric.
Those aren't his favorite kind of apples.
I just stood there, without my usual placid smile I reserve for the service industry. I was stonefaced, not responding to his jibes. In my head swirled thoughts about the things I would like to do with him and how I would dispose of the corpse. The blood vessels in my head throbbed with wrath.
So I guess despite casually enduring what many patrons would have lost their **** over (can I get some service over here?), I was driven to the point of eternal rage by 5 minutes of interaction of a socially inept waste of organic tissue. My eyes still hurt from the anger spasms.
