Well. To be honest, I thought we would make it to at LEAST February before I’d be forced to write another etiquette post but nope, it appears that yet another group of socially inept individuals are in need of instruction. Fear not! I am here to get the job done!
Let’s get this out of the way first: I hate shopping for groceries. I would rather have my teeth cleaned, then plow my way up and down aisles in search of something to eat. Strangely, some people actually enjoy this chore, though I have yet to figure out why. I have even been told that this is relaxing for some. HUH? Here are a few reasons why I find this task neither enjoyable or relaxing.
The Grump: Based on Sunday’s experience, we will refer to this type of shopper as ‘he.’ Grump stomps about the grocery store looking like he’s going to pound the shit out of anyone who so much as looks at him the wrong way. Hey grump! Who put rat shit in your Cheerios this morning? This isn’t a football field – don’t charge me like a quarterback, clutching that loaf of bread as though your life depends on it, and expect me to move. Drop the loaf and find some manners, fool! And you, Boozer – why don’t you try a shower/ shave before you leave the house? Maybe comb your hair and put on some clean clothes while you’re at it. I came face to face with this plump , disheveled groucho right after my encounter with the quarterback; boy did he look like he had a stick up his ass. I’d just rounded a corner and was walking to the right – as per standard walking etiquette (walking is like driving people – stick to the right!); Boozer gave me a dirty look, stopped, raised his arms, and sighed as though I was the most aggravating person on the planet. Then he did some kind of weird head jerking movement. All the while, he’ s staring me down, wild-eyed. It took me a moment to realize that the head spasm was his way of telling me to go. God forbid he should open his mouth to SPEAK. If you’re a mute, grumpy asshole, then stay home! Why you were shopping at 10 a.m. to begin with, is beyond me, as you are so obviously not a morning person!
The Tailgater: Do you know how long the meat counter is? Well I don’t know either, but it’s at LEAST 50-feet long. Yes, I know that all that meat is hypnotizing to look at, but how about you step off? I don’t need your cart up my ass, OK? There’s no one but you and me at the counter – look up the definition of personal space when you get home and apply your new-found knowledge next time you go shopping!
Speedy Gonzales: There’s nothing I like more then walking down an aisle, only to find myself the target of some asshole’s cart rage. Is this where you go now when your driver’s license has been revoked? Why don’t you try going for a jog or something before you shop? That said, not only do you need to worry about road warriors when shopping for your groceries, you also have to worry about total nut jobs. A few weeks ago, I was at the store with my mother; there I was, patiently waiting off to the side when out of nowhere, this freak sporting a pom-pom hat came flying past me on a cart. I watched in amazement as she flew past me, legs tucked under the cart, completely oblivious to the fact that she was in a grocery store that was quite populous. I was in the middle of processing what I’d just seen when she came back to the front of the store and did it all over again! What the fuck? If you’re looking for a quick thrill, try tobogganing, you giant idiot of a woman. Let’s just say that I wasn’t too surprised when I saw her hippie counterparts flinging cauliflower and broccoli into their cart – apparently they were in the mood to play basketball in the middle of aisle 1. Oh yeah, and they were in their early thirties!
Narcissus: If I’m checking out the bell peppers with my cart by my side, do NOT shove my cart five feet away just because you need one damn red pepper. Newsflash: the world doesn’t revolve around you or your ego – wait your damn turn, or politely ask me to move my cart. If I’d seen your egocentric ass there in the first place, odds are I would’ve moved my cart without you having to ask. I mean really, how long do you think I’m going to remain planted in front of the frigging peppers dude?
The Space Invaders: Oh. My. God, what did I TELL you about reaching over me and grabbing shit?! It’s not like every fucking fruit or vegetable is in its own individual cube and we each have to wait our turn to get at it! Try going around me you fat, lazy sod – and if you really must get your bananas from the left, wait until I’m done!
Double the Pleasure: Once again, I will remind you that walking is like driving… So don’t double-park your cart next to mine in an aisle. Why? Because no one else can get through! Place your cart in front of, or behind mine but allow other shoppers to circulate freely, woman!
The End is Near: This is when you get stuck in line behind someone who is obviously preparing for the end of the world. Their cart is stacked with crap and they can barely push it, it’s that heavy. Why don’t you do two trips? Or shop with a partner/friend/relative? Then you can use two carts and use two different check-out lines, and potentially not hold up traffic for an hour!
Starvin’ Marvin: The sample lady is not there to feed you an entire meal. Take your damn sample and move along already. Give the rest of us a chance and tasting the next best thing.
The Raceway: The car park at your local grocery store is NOT A RACE TRACK. Slow the fuck down!
What do YOU love or hate about shopping for crap – errr, I mean food?
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