Rage Against The Supermarket Checkout Line
I'm a kitten on freeways but become instantly enraged on a supermarket checkout line. Upon arrival I desperately pretend I'm alone on a tropical island gazing at pretty clouds. That's why I smile, but it's a crooked smile like I'm holding back a stinky because the rage builds immediately.
Why is the old lady paying 96 cents with 76 pieces of change, pulling out each coin and announcing the new total? Why is the checker asking the next person if he found everything ok? What if he says he wanted to buy a cut of beef? Do they call the butcher out from the back with a display of roasts? Did she just ask the next person if he got everything he needed? What if he says no? Do they then stare at each other existentially? Can they lock up the cigarettes any farther away? I just came from the gym where I hack-squatted 1,000 lbs. Do they think I need help carrying three sacks of groceries to my car?