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February 13, 2010
Chicken Marsala, regular teenager
I have grocery store bitchins, but first I have to mention that the girl at the tanning salon called me sir yesterday.
After dealing with that ego blow, I went to the grocery store.
An attractive older woman who was probably my exact age in the fruit section smiled at me and I said hi. She had breast implants, aka good to look at bad to touch. Moving on, I got all my things; soap, sponges, chicken, scallions, cooking wine. At the register I noticed the same woman next to me. The cashier was a 300lb inbred slovenly retard who thought he should card me for the wine. I handed my driver's license over. Rather than just read the DOB, he got on the loudspeaker, "I have an ID check at register three." Out of state driver's license. I said okay can you handle a military ID? Handed it over. "No," he says, "I have to check this too." The attractive woman glanced at me as if to say, "How embarrassing for you. Any hopes you may have once had are now shot." I wanted to say, "Listen you fat bastard I am 38 and this is cooking wine," but I held my tongue and shot evil glares. The woman left. A 16 year old girl came over, read the DOB on my two forms of ID, and authorized my purchase. Then American Idol's Adam Lambert asked me if plastic would be okay. I said, "I really don't care." Because why would it not be okay? Who cares what kind of bag it is? Next time I am saying "Fuck no its not okay you emo son of a bitch."
Posted by K