Hello all…by all I mean no one. Admittedly, I don’t know a thing about anything, however, I do live in Los Angeles and drive a crappy car, so I have plenty of reasons to complain. I have decided to start telling people exactly what I think staaaaaarrttinggg now.
I am destined to stand on line. Anyone will of course tell you that is part of living in Los Angeles. On any given day a 10 minute drive will take over an hour. However, I think someone up there really likes me and wants me to savor the fine moments of living I am subject to.
I was standing on line today at Rite-Aid when it hit me. No matter what line I get in at rite-aid I will forever be condemned to stand behind that son-of-a-bitch who is doing one of the following things:
- Paying for their bottle of Wild Turkey with pennies
- Asking for a price check on all seventeen items they’re purchasing
- Asking Shaniqua to get them the one brand of cigarettes which is unavailable at the front- who has ever heard of Reginald Smooth Lights?!?
- Doing just about anything that requires a lacksadasical manager to be called up front from the back- which is further away than ANYTHING.
Now sure, I could stand on another line right? Wrong. Because everybody knows the law of lines states that if you switch lines, the line you were just in will start moving and you will be stuck in an even slower line. So I’m standing there, all I want in my pack of pens (I chronically lose pens, fuck you), and the woman in front of me gets into this huge arguement with the cashier. The cashier says there’s nothing she can do, but NOOO, far be it from the woman in front of me to take that for an answer. So after 10 minutes of banter the customer leaves without buying jack shit. I get to the cashier and she goes off to do some stocking or something, asking me if I wouldn’t mind waiting a minute. Of course, it’s a rhetorical question because before I have the chance to say "yes, as a matter of fact, I do mind" she’s dust in the wind. After another five minutes I manage to make it out.
Now that I’ve got my pens I head to the bank. I am continually amazed how everyone at the bank but me has some ridiculously huge transaction to fill when I’m there. The guy in front of me, and I am not making this up for a few laughs, actually asked the one available teller for 220 dollars in singles. Have you ever seen someone count out 220 dollars in singles? I did. Twice. Then the guy got confused over exactly how much money he was supposed to be receiving. That would have been the highlight of my day had it not been for Shmuel bringing in his 30 pound bag of quarters.
Oh, it was also the teller’s first day so he kept having to call a manager from the back…
-A
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