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Quarter Lifer

Quarter Lifer: June 2006

6/14/2006

Home Sweet Home

Somedays you can't help but love where you live....

PooperScooper
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6/08/2006

Stupid People In Large Groups Are Dangerous

I avoid shopping on weekends like the plague.
Why?

Mostly to avoid commiting several acts of homicide in one day. The weekend is some sort of dinner bell for the stupid masses to all come out at once, drive 10 mph under the speed limit & generally fuck up my day. When I run errands on the weekend I usually have a list. I just want to get my shit & get back to the safety of my house. When I can not do my shit in a timely fashion I get rather aggitated.

So I have devised a theory:
- Weekend shoppers are actually cults of stupid people meeting up with 'their kind'.

- Christmas shopping is their annual stupid people convention.

I'm pretty sure the convention motto is "Huh?"

Case in point:

Last weekend my aunt called me to help her fix her computer. This is one of my least favorite activities for several reasons:
1) She still uses AOL Dial up & wonders why her computer is always jammed full of spyware.
2) She always wants me to fix her chat monitoring software - Sorry, I have moral issues with
spying on kids who haven't done anything wrong.
3) She insists on writing down everything I do even though she could never replicate the processes herself. This adds at least an hour to my visits.

In order to make the dreaded house call more worthwhile I decided to pick up some laptop speakers from Compusa. I know exactly what I want. There is no good reason for this to be more than a 10 minute endeavor. I allowed enough time to get to Comp, grab the speakers & make it to my aunt's house by 4pm on Sunday. I was in line at approximately 3:45. I would continue to stand in line behind exactly one patron for the next 20 minutes.

How is this possible considering my flawless planning you ask? BECAUSE I WAS IN LINE BEHIND THE MOST FUCKING INEPT SHOPPER IN THE HISTORY OF MANKIND!

The man in front of me had exactly 5 items (3 crappy routers, a pair of headphones & a single can of air). Do you know why I distinctly remember the number of items? Because he insisted on having each item rung up seperately. He clearly didn't have this plan when he got up to the cashier, but had decided to wing it. Which left me standing there watching this man's thought process unfold before my eyes. I can say with great confidence he was no rocket scientist. If not for his overly suburban 'I so drive a mini-van' attire I wouldn't have even consider him for the position of rocket janitor.

The rest of the ordeal played out like this:
1) Man decides he wants one item rung up seperately from the other four items. Apparently because there is some sort of rebate involved. He pays with his credit card.
2) Man decides he wants the next two items rung up together, but seperate from the remaining two items.
3) Man changes his mind - Decides he wants the two items seperate from each other. He pays for each item with his credit card.
4) Man decides that the headphones & canned air can be rung up together. Again he reaches for his credit card.

5) Stop the fucking presses - He changes his mind AGAIN. Apparently there might be a rebate on the headphones & those need to be individually rung up as well. Out comes the plastic card of doom. I am pretty sure the magnetic strip has worn off by now. My hostility level has become sufficeintly high enough that I briefly consider grabbing the card from him, slicing his jugular open with it in a Macgyver-esque fashion & then possibly doing a ritual dance in his blood. I figure then he would at least be able to sympathize with how bad my day was going.
6) Finally, we get to the last item: After 2 bags, 5 transactions & 20 some minutes of my life that I will never get back... the end is in sight.

Or so I thought....
With nothing left but a $5.67 can of air, yes AIR as in the shit you breathe for free every second of your life, he stops to contemplate cash or credit? He opts for cash which then leads him to pull out his coin purse looking thing - It was the old man kind that you squeeze and it opens up. Which actually looks wildly similar to a pocket pussy....


After digging around in his coin pussy for what seemed like an eternity he decided he didn't have exact change and gave the woman $6 in cash. So, now I have to wait for change to be made & of course, one more receipt to print.

After the man left I felt it was my duty to voice my frustrations to the cashier. I was hoping for some sort of 'Wasn't he an idiot?' bond to form. Unfortunately, she must have been a cult member in her off time since she didn't seem at all phased by the previous customer.
Then the final kick in the head...The cashier tells me that she could have just printed out multiple copies of the receipt for his rebate forms.
YOU DUMB CUNT, WHY DIDN'T YOU TELL HIM THAT INSTEAD OF ME?!?!?!

No more weekend shopping for me for awhile. They sell things on the internet for a reason - To keep people like me sane.
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