by Cashier at the Food Mart – Gawd I hate you so much. Of all the retards in the world,
why’d you have to come into the Food Mart right as I was about to finish my
shift? You take freakin’ forever to decide what you wanted, going through all
the aisles like a bloated, drunken manatee. You examine each Malomar and Mamba
like they’re nuclear bombs you’re trying to defuse.
Then you leave the refrigerator door open as you read the
minute details on what seems like each and every energy drink back there. Do
you really need to memorize the percentage of B12, Riboflavin and acorbic acid
in Diet Rock Star? Think there’s going to be a pop quiz on that later, dumbass?
I mean, really- get a life.
To make matters worse, you see the nachos and your eyes
light up like Christmas in Vegas. You slather them with what must’ve been like
15 pounds of chili. And when you go for the cheese, that really sealed the
deal. So what if it spurts and barely trickles out? You make me change it? It’s
the end of the night you buttmunch, of course it’s gonna be empty. I want to go
Do you know how much work it is to go into the back, rummage
through storage to find a dumb bag of cheese, dump it into the cheese machine,
then wait for it to heat so you can pour it onto your stupid nachos that you’ll
probably just shovel into your mouth like some sickening starving Sumo
wrestler? Well, it’s a lot of work, just so you know.
And the freakin’ kicker? The topper to end all toppers? Your
total is $1.37. My drawer could have been perfect. I’m down to just a few
pieces of change, and all my coin rolls are still pristine and intact. You plop
down 2 one dollar bills.
YOU ASSHOLE! Now, since I have no dimes left, one quarter
and two pennies, I have to open the whole goddamn gammit of coin rolls, just so
you can have your precious sloppy ass nachos that are gonna go right to your
Do you have any idea how unbelievably annoying and obnoxious
it is to have to count all those dumb coins? After an entire night of finagling
and number crunching to make sure I didn’t have to open the rolls. It’s a
muthafuckin’ pain to count all those goddamned coins!
I’ve been jonesin’ for a cigarette break for hours, and just
as I thought I was gonna be able to finally sneak away and light up a refreshing
Newport, you have to come and take forever, and then make me break my coin
rolls open just so you can slurp up some nasty nacho sauce. Now it’ll take me
forever to count those coins one by one before I bank out and go home tonight.
Gawd, I hate you so, so much.