I was standing in the check out line waiting for the cashier that seemed to be nowhere in sight. I have patients like a saint. I don’t get mad or rude if the cashier isn’t there behind the register at that exact moment. Even if I’m in a hurry and feel this enormous pressure that I have to be elsewhere at any given time, I still try to plan everything ahead of time. The cashier could likely be busy doing something else like talking with their boss or maybe they’re in the middle of stocking shelves. And it never fails that a line forms at the most busiest time of evening—right before supper. Maybe the manager just stepped out for a smoke or the cashier doesn’t see that a long line was forming behind me and I had been at the check out less than two minutes.
And there’s some random guy standing too close for comfort behind me. He was one of those stealthy types that just cut in line and was there. And he might be thinking that by raising his voice in a holler while pounding loudly on the check out counter will make a woman like me turn to him with an expression of gratitude or fall head over heels… and if that’s the case, forget it. In the real world that kind of rude behavior doesn’t cut the mustard with me, pal and just gets on my bad side extremely fast.
And the fact this guy was literally breathing down my neck the whole time made me feel extremely uneasy, nervous, and always got to watch my stuff on that counter. The guy behind me just dumps his crap load of Little Debbie snacks, sodas, Gatorades, and junk food onto my purchases and doesn’t use one of those plastic divider bars or even bother to separate his stuff from mine. So there I am hoisting two 1 gallon jugs of water and clutched a can of tuna. My poison ivy rashes are flaring up badly. I’m in no mood for this guy’s sarcasm.
This guy lacks common sense, for the most part. He seems to have no clue about decency while shouting and pounding on the counter, “Hey, can we get some service over here?!” Then, looks at me and says with a grin on his face like he’s Mr. Macho, “That’s how you get them to get off their damn standing asses around here.”
I’m thinking, “You [to the guy behind me] belligerent simpleton!” and I felt like politely speaking up and telling this guy to a.) back off and respect my personal space! and b.) Never raise your voice to the cashiers. They work hard for what little they do earn, and its morons like this guy in particular that make their long work day equally grueling and tiresome. I don’t work in retail and don’t ever plan to and this guy would be a prime example as to why not. I’m just a customer. However, I do try to place myself in the cashier’s shoes whom wasn’t the least happy with the guy behind me and it showed. I do sympathize with those that have a billion trillion other things they’d rather be doing than checking out…
The obnoxious guy that hollers and thinks it will impress a lady like me? I think not. I gave the obnoxious guy behind me some disgusted glances and quickly moved to the opposite side at the far end of counter just so he’d stop with the invasion of my personal space so I could pay for my stuff and get the heck out of there.
Well, it’s that guy’s particular behavior that makes me steamed and I don’t care what time of the month it is for me. That guy’s stupid behavior should have ended in grade school—eons ago. And its just one of the many unpleasant, rude, and disrespectful things I deal with from some men (not all, mind you) who constantly try to either a.) impress me with their childish loud, disrespectful behavior like obnoxious guy tried. b.) constantly try to flirt with me and these men aren’t even in the neighborhood of handsome nor are they the clean-cut, church-going types in appearance and c.) some men just feel the need to fly off the handle at me when I politely refuse to accept one of those plastic fresh produce bags that they try to hand me.
The guy I refer was neither a store clerk nor did he work at the store. He was just another customer with sleeve tattoos I guess they call them and his neck, hands and fingers were all inked as well.
I’ve been chewed out for simply hesitating accepting a produce bag from a lowlife who was recently let out of jail. I only know this because he was one aisle over from me in another store boasting to a store manager how he gave attitude to his parole officer like he was so proud of his cocky attitude and then proceeded to question the manager why he got fired from his employment of only three days. The convict’s explanation was simply dumb. He didn’t feel like showing up for work because it was “…too early in the morning and boring.” The manager simply explained to him that if he doesn’t call or even notify them he won’t be at work, then the boss reserves the right to assume he didn’t want the job very badly in the first place.
The convict had the mentality of a third-grader because it was like he still didn’t understand even when the manager tried to simplify it in terms even a kindergartner could understand. I recognized this lowlife as the same man from the grocery store where he became extremely irate with me when I, at first, politely refused to take a plastic produce bag he offered to me. Then he lost his cool in a flash and shouted at me where everybody around me could hear, “What’s it look like? That I have some god-damned disease or somethin’? Now Take it!”
“Fine!” I huffed under my breath, feeling like if I didn’t, he’d be the type to knock my block off at any given moment.
I wouldn’t doubt what landed him in jail in the first place was probably domestic violence or something similar of that nature. He had a pregnant young woman with him and she was pushing a baby stroller with a baby in it, completely unfazed by his hot-headed attitude. She appeared to be one of those types that didn’t care too much about her personal appearance, was dressed between boho-ish on a wally world budget/ sloppily dressed in a long sundress, hair unkempt and greasy in a sloppy pony tail. She forgot to put on some shoes or sandals before leaving the house because she was barefoot. Uh, when did grocery stores throw out the ‘No shirt, no shoes, no service’ signs? I haven’t seen those since the 90s.
I loathe men like that one that pitched a royal fit in the grocery store when I tried to refuse the produce bag he was handing off to me. And the guy behind me in line today that was obnoxious just got on my nerves. Maybe it was my recent horrible bout poison ivy that literally rubbed me raw on this day in particular and that didn’t help. I felt like a real crab apple but thank god I didn’t take it out on those around me.
And then there’s the jogging Jaywalker I encountered on my way home.
She was standing at the end of an alley facing a busy street. She has on massive huge headphones, completely tuning out her surroundings. She’s doing a move like she either has ants in her shorts or its some kind of new uncontrollable dance move. She’s eyeing me as I approach like Grandma Moses behind the wheel since I don’t know what she’ll attempt. I’ve had random people try to walk into my vehicle (not walk around it, in front of it or even behind it, mind you). I don’t know what these kinds of people must think or what they’re on for that matter. And these types of people always appear to be in a major hurry and/ or they get annoyed when you [the driver] stop to yield to them even when you know you’re risking a potential fender bender from behind.
Just this evening as I was going home I caught a glimpse of a man in my review walk behind my vehicle while I was stopped at a red light. He jay-walked out in front of traffic without so much looking to where he was going with an air about him like he owned the town. And the jogging jaywalker’s looking straight ahead, her body jerking all over the place like someone with Tardive Dyskinesia. I’ve seen a lot of folks around town with this same uncontrollable herky jerky body movement. Whether it’s from them being meth addicts or if they legitimately have some kind of nervous system damage, it’s anybody’s guess. And if you see them in the store they always seem to be talking a mile a minute with themselves, very pre-consumed like they’re off in another world, and racing to and from their carts to dump stuff in it and go back for something else all the while rambling onto themselves like they haven’t had a decent night’s sleep in days or weeks even.
It’s one thing to see meth heads hanging out at the library or when they’re at the store and try to pay for a chocolate bar, bag of chips, and a bottle of soda while jerking so badly they can’t even stand still for a single minute and hand over the change which they wind up dumping out on the counter anyway. And it’ll scare the crap out of you when a meth head suddenly appears out of nowhere, knocks on your vehicle window and smiles revealing their black/rotted and missing teeth, hoping that you (the driver) will spare them some money, or perhaps they’ll just try and rob you, etc. They look aged beyond their years like they’re fifty or even sixty and have open sores all over their face, arms, hands, and yet, they might be no older than twenty-something or just barely out of their late teens, give or take.
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