The Suburban Jungle

Usually in a checkout line, I know the girl at the register. I know where she is from, what she is doing for the holidays and possibly even her stance on gay marriage. By the time I hit the register at Starbucks, the barista has my coffee sitting on the counter with Jenny from the block, scribbled on it. I mention this, because I am usually friendly and up for chit chat, witty banter, or mundane repartee.

However, as I discovered at Whole Foods yesterday, I have some deep-seated aggression. Apparently, if you are too chipper on a Monday morning, and I am in a rush, we might throw down.

All of this started when the jolly man in front of me finished chatting up the patron before him. He then turned to me in a “jovial friend to all” mode and quipped, “Hello, may I put this divider down so that you can place your food on the belt? Chuckle…chuckle. That way our food won’t fight.”

My not unusually sarcastic response: “My food could kick your food’s

ass.”

His good spirited response: “Well you did buy a lot of organic. You might be right.”

My surprisingly aggressive response: “If my food doesn’t do the job, I will take you down myself.”

Translation: Less talky more swipey, okay there buddy?

It’s Monday, I’m in a rush, and worst of all I am about to spend $159.55 on oranges, an avocado, a piece of Chilean sea bass, a bag of nuts, and 3 grapes. I have every right to be bitter and impatient.

This entry was posted on Tuesday, September 30th, 2008 at 4:45 pm and is filed under Daily grind, Mom issues, Mommy Rant, Useful Tips, comedy, everyday rituals, parody, slice of life. You can follow any responses to this entry through the RSS 2.0 feed. You can leave a response, or trackback from your own site.