"Gregory Morrow" <TheKillingOfSisterGeorge@mercycroft.net> wrote in message
news:fe1a18$erm$1@aioe.org...
>
> Pete C.wrote:
>
> > Sqwertz wrote:
> > >
> > > On Wed, 03 Oct 2007 17:48:39 GMT, blake murphy wrote:
> > >
> > > > maybe some dickhead like you [referring to Andy] takes
> > > > items out of carts instead of putting them in.
> > >
> > > I've done that before:
> > >
> > > I went to Central Market one day, looking for nothing in
> > > particular when I spotted a tri-tip sitting in the meat case, all
> > > alone and looking for something to do. So I stuck around trying
> > > to get the attention of somebody back there cutting meat. They
> > > saw me, but couldn't be bothered to break themselves away from
> > > labeling their hamburger packages.
> > >
> > > I waited about 2 minutes for help when some young Hawaiian lady,
> > > a definite 10+, steps up beside me. Suddenly Studly Dooright
> > > back there playing with his hamburger decides to help a customer
> > > and steps up tho the counter - "Can I help you maam"?
> > >
> > > Huh?
> > >
> > > Before I could protest that I was here first, she's already
> > > pointing to *my* tri-tip, while glancing over at me - knowing I
> > > was there well before her. I usually speak up when it's clear
> > > that I'm was the next person to be serviced, but it all happened
> > > too quick. Now what? I wanted the same piece of meat and if I
> > > speak up now and say I was first *and* I wanted that same piece
> > > of meat, then it'll look like I'm doing it out of spite.
> > >
> > > I left the counter without ordering anything, but not before
> > > directing a loud grunt, shaking head, and evil stare at the
> > > shit-eating grin on Studly Dooright.
> > >
> > > Later, Mrs. America catches up to me in the bulk food section. I
> > > suddenly got that urge for that tri-tip again. While her back is
> > > turned to her cart checking out the nuts, I snagged the tri-tip
> > > out her cart. A minor victory. From the looks of her cart it
> > > didn't look like she could do that tri-tip justice anyway.
> > >
> > > I wish I would have left a note in her cart telling her why she
> > > didn't have a tri-tip any more. Hopefully that was supposed to
> > > be her dinner that night.
> > >
> > > -sw
> >
> > You need to work on your reaction times. When someone tries to cut in
> > front of me I most certainly make a stink, regardless of who it may be.
> > I'm a firm believer of equal rights and first come first served so
> > whether it's a supermodel, a granny, or a 300# biker, they will *not* be
> > allowed to cut in front of me.
>
>
> Retail Drama 'O The Day aka Today @ Walgreen's:
>
> I'm waiting patiently to check out, I've got four small items (coupons in
> hand, cash ready to fork over, I know what the total is gonna be)...
>
> Airhead lo - rent chick waltzes in, plants herself in front of me...
>
> Me: "Uh, there's a LINE here, and I'm next..."
>
> Airhead: "But I'm just getting a pack of cigarettes..."
>
> Me; "There's a LINE here, and I'm NEXT..."
>
> Airhead: "I didn't know there was a line, nobody told me there was a
> line..."
>
> Me: "Uh, that's NOT my JOB..."
>
> Airhead: "You know, there's no reason to be so rude, if it were me I
> wouldn't talk to you that way..."
>
> Me: "That's NOT my JOB...the line starts BACK THERE [about six people
> back]..."
>
> She sulks away to the back of the line, guy next to me says, "Great! I'm
> sick and tired of people cutting in front of the line because they are "in
> an hurry" to get a pack of cigarettes...", I reply, "Hey no worries...".
>
> Just fer fun I stuck around to scope her checking out, she bought a pack
of
> GENERIC cigs and wrote a friggin' CHECK for the amount ($5.00), that
> particular drama took a whiles as the chick expressed amazement that
> Walgreen's would ask for a valid photo ID from someone paying with a
> personal check...also took a few minutes for her to fish her checkook out
of
> her purse (another pet peeve of mine about female shoppers, but that's
> another old, tired, and hoary moth - eaten thread)..."I don't know if I
> brought my driver's license with me...", yadda, yadda, yadda.
>
> So yeah, folks, SPEAK UP...
>
> BTW what Squirtz did was REALLY lame, but then he's never been real swift
in
> the "social skills" department...very childish IMNSHO.


Epilogue:

Hawaiian hottie went back to the meat counter and frustrated saying "I had
this roast in my cart and somebody took it. I was going to cook it for my
mother who is old and can't get around anymore. She loves tri-tip stew.
It's her favorite and she'd been looking forward to this meal all week. Who
would do such a thing?"

Randy the randy but decent young meat dude mentions some weirdo hovering
around staring blankly at the meat selection not even trying to summon any
assistance. "Oh yeah, I saw him" she thinks to herself. "My name is
Randy, miss, I will get you another one from the back. I'll pick out the
very best just for you and I think we can even take 10% off the price for
your trouble. We apologize for our customers, we don't get to choose them
you understand"

The young woman is touched by his friendliness and kindness. She thinks
about life in the big city, so far from her home in the bucolic splendor of
her Island state. "Maybe everyone in Texas isn't a jerk" she thinks to
herself.

When he returns with a fine, fresh tri-tip roast she thanks him as he deftly
wraps it for her, smiling at her loveliness. He says it is no trouble, and
with a toe-in-the sand smile and a twinkle in his eye he asks if it isn't
too forward could he meet her for coffee if she is so inclined and without
somebody special already in her life.

She accepts thinking this is a good day, a weird day, but a good day. A
stolen roast, a handsome young man, a date - "it's all good" she thinks to
herself and writes down her phone number.

They meet for coffee, sparks fly, they fall madly in love. The last anyone
had heard of them, they were happily living together as a married couple on
her father's 1000 acre estate in Hawaii. She remembers the crazy way they
met and how she owes it all to that guy she saw staring at her in the meat
market that day. "I'd have gone out with him if he'd asked, good thing he
didn't now that I think about it."

Last anyone saw of Mr. Wertz, he was dressed in his boxer shorts and socks,
chortling and cackling to himself while composing petty posts on a cooking
newsgroup, reveling in his own vindictiveness and reaching for the whiskey
bottle.

The end