Holy crap, it was bitch central this weekend.
First off, on Friday night, I berated the guy at the
deli counter in Von’s because there was a 25-minute wait for rotisserie
chickens. “It’s dinner time – you should plan better,” I said and walked off in
a huff, leaving my cart right in front of the deli counter (there were only a
few items in it).
Then, on Saturday, O. and I went shopping. At the dollar
store, I am about to leave my cart in the parking space right next to O.’s car
(I know, but I was feeling lazy and there were plenty of parking spaces) when I
heard a beep and saw that someone was pulling into that space. So I (very
slowly) walked the cart over to the corral. Walking back, I saw that the beeping
bitch was still sat in her car, so I stood outside O.’s car thereby blocking the
beeping bitch from getting out of her car. It wasn’t that long, but long enough
for her to know what I was doing.
Then, in the liquor store, I sampled some red wine and
asked the chick giving out the samples if I could keep the glass (it was so
cute, a little tasting-size wine glass). She said no and I asked if they sold
them and she said something about checking out the glass wear aisle. I am about
to put the glass down on the dirty glass tray that I had seen earlier when
another customer got in my way so I had to walk around him to get there. Of course,
to the wine bitch it looked like I was walking away and so she said rather
pointedly, “You can leave your glass over there.” “Uh, I’m trying to,” I say.
Then, at Sweet Tomatoes the line was huge and took so
long. The couple in front of us had two plates each on their trays and were filling
up those little sample-size paper cups with EVERY dressing available. So we get
to the front and I didn’t see the “wait to be seated” sign so I went in front
of this couple. When someone pointed out the sign, I go back in line but said
to the guy that it was taking so long because of the two plates deal. And that,
“You can go back, you know.” He said that
you couldn’t (does anyone know for sure? I always thought you could. I mean, I go back to the baked potato area
several times, but I’ve never wanted to go back to the salad part.) Anyway,
then the guy said something about how exhausting it must be being a bitch all
the time. When I replied, “It has its moments,” he could not help but laugh and
the ice was broken and I said, “You really can’t go back a second time?” and we
were cool.
Then, this is the pièce de résistance, we go to the Thrifty ice cream store
to get dessert and pick up some ice cream for O.’s husband. Well, we get there
and there are about 10 adults and kids at the counter, they are all members of
the same family and they are all paying separately and every one of them seemed
to order something with at least 12 components and well, there was a lot of
eye-rolling going on between me and O. Plus there was only one server. But,
after my Sweet Tomatoes confrontation, I was trying to go with the flow. O., on
the other hand, not so much. In fact, it must have been pretty bad because one
of the family members was this blind chick and when it came to her turn, she said
we could go ahead because it was obvious we were annoyed and getting impatient.
Holy crap, it must have been bad if a blind chick could tell there were issues!
I know, bad right? I’ve got to be more careful, because
like O. pointed out about the dollar store beeper, she was younger than me and
more ethnic, and then there are all those guns being carried around these days.
Plus, I have to keep reminding myself that it is not someone else’s fault my
life revolves around food and the poor deli guy had no way of knowing I had planned
my entire weekend of meals around that chicken and the guy in Sweet Tomatoes
didn’t know that I live for buffets.
But it all worked out in the end, because the Universe made
sure I got paid back: one of the items I got at the dollar store was broken and
I had a major oops I crapped my pants moment on the way home.
