A Blog About A Bag…

Standard

Me: “Would you like these in a bag?”

Dude: “No.  No bag.”

Me: “Okay, here you go.  Have a good night.”

Dude: Looking annoyed and rather inconvenienced and such, “Can I have these bagged?  I need them bagged.”

Me:  Blink a lot then, “Sure thing.”

Wtf?  In, like, 10 seconds the guy goes from saying no to having a bag to acting like I’m stupid for not putting his crap in a bag.  Seriously?  What the hell is wrong with people?  Shit like this is why aliens fly right by this planet.  Some alien sees morons like this dude in his little alien-spy-o-vision thingamabob and says, “Hell to the no.  Uh huh.  Keep right on going, Frank.  These fuckers are hopeless.”  

Seriously spell check?  Thingamabob is okay with you but you got all snarky with me over words like snarky and nebulizer and judgy???  And damn it, judgy is so a word!

So I’m having this annoying pain in my lower back/hip area that is just pissing me off to no end.  Genuinely have no idea what the hell it is.  Could be fibromyalgia or maybe my stupid hip is going psycho again or it’s some syatic nerve thingy or something else entirely.  Whatever it is, it can just knock this shit off right frickin’ now.  I have enough to deal with already with the whole asthma b.s. and the stupid foot issue that has started and my stupid stomach acting all asshole-ish–seriously, I don’t need anything else.  I’m good.  Except now I feel awkward for bringing this up, ’cause I’m just sure that folks are gonna be all, “God, what a whiner!  She’s such a wuss!  No one cares about your attention-seeking ailment complaints and whatnot.  Get over yourself, loser.”  But I swear I am not fishing for sympathy!  I’m not feeling all sorry for myself and such, I’m just annoyed as all get out.  Anyway, it’s not like I get on here and write about my every ache and pain and cry about being miserable or anything.  I hate that people in the past have made me so self-conscious about saying anything about being in pain.  It’s unforgivably rude to make people who experience chronic pain feel embarrassed and/or uncomfortable being honest about their pain.  If my friend has pain, I not only allow them to talk about it without making them feel bad, I even offer sympathy and support.  Now I’m all totally not feeling warm and fuzzy and people suck and I want to move to a deserted island somewhere and take the whole 25 or 30 people on the planet I find pleasant and never deal with other people again.  Except maybe if, like, one of those people wanted to bring a single dude who likes reading and watching zombie movies with them to my island.  Then I would totally be cool with putting up with one extra person.

Daily randomosity:  Some chick came into our store tonight to purchase undies because…wait for it…her water broke while she was in her car in the parking lot and she wanted to change her undies before she went to the hospital to have her baby.  Dear lord people are bafflingly dim-witted.  Krystal and I came up with the most awesome-sauce idea tonight and now I can’t wait to complete our plans!  Sadly, I cannot yet reveal the specifics of our plan as there is a chance the details could be leaked to the wrong person and then our brilliant plan would be destroyed.  But never fear, I will let y’all know all the details of our plan and the result the very day it is implemented.  Pop quiz:  What movie has a character named Mr. Bixler?  I really need to find a way to get my very own Undead Fred so I can start him a blog wherein I would share our many adventures and countless delightful photographs documenting the awesomeness of his existence.  (For those not in the know, Undead Fred is a 3D foam/latex archery target sold by Walmart and he is just pure awesomeness and he totally just needs some shnazzy duds and an adventurous photographer buddy to document his many nifty adventures to become the awesomest blog star ever.)  Hey Becky, I totally saw a purple lawn flamingo today!  I would totally hijack it but I’d probably end up tripping over something in their yard and break my ankle and then they’d hear me bellering in agony and then they’d call the cops and I’d get arrested and have to go to the emergency room in handcuffs, which would be totally embarrassing, and then I’d be hauled off to jail and  be charged with lawn ornament theft, which wouldn’t be really very fair since I never even made it out of the yard, so their flamingo didn’t get stolen, so probably they’d drop the charges but only after a stern reprimanding from the grouchy judge who would make me cry.  I don’t really want a grouchy judge to make me cry, so I think I probably won’t be hijacking the flamingo for you.  But maybe if I see it at a store or something, I will totally buy it.  Unless I’m broke, which is pathetically likely, in which case I will totally take it’s picture and post it on your Facebook page.  ‘Cause I’m thoughtful like that.

Later y’all!       

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