Halloween weekend at Johnston’s Market

.facebook_1540763042263.jpg

It’s Saturday night Halloween weekend. So I go to Johnston’s Market to purchase a 6-pack of Racer 5. There’s a fairly long line. I grab my 6-pack and take my spot in the back of the line.

Then this big young white guy comes into the store. And instead of going to the BACK of the line. He stations himself ALONG SIDE the line. Just in front of me. The classic cut-in-the-line move.

When the line moves forward I quickly step ahead of him so he can’t cut in front of me.

He turns around and faces me. Menacingly. And says: “I was here before you,” he lies.

I don’t back down. It’s one of those macho things.

He bores down on me: “My girlfriend sent me in here to buy a pack of Camel Crush. And I was here before you.”

I can tell he’s drunk and he’s an asshole and he’s quite willing — if not eager — to physically fight with me to assert his place in the line.

I momentarily consider kicking him in the nuts. And then, as he’s writhing on the floor in pain, I take my rightful place ahead of him.

Instead — after quickly considering my options — I say: “If it’s that important to you, you can go first.”

He leers at me and says: “You know how they say pardon in French? Pard-OWN.”

“If it’s that important to you, you can go first,” I repeat. I step back and allow him to cut in front of me.

Now as we’re waiting on line I’m staring at the back of his head. And I’m thinking how easily I could bash his head in. But there are laws against that sort of thing. So I decide against that option.

He buys his pack of Camel Crush. Makes his exit. I buy my 6-pack. And then watch as he crosses in the middle of the street, pisses all over the wall of the Berkeley Games store. Then sits down against the wall with his girlfriend and they light up their Camel Crush cigarettes.

The holidays always bring out all the amateur drunks.

It’s Saturday night Halloween weekend. So I go to Johnston’s Market to purchase a 6-pack of Racer 5. There’s a fairly long line. I grab my 6-pack and take my spot in the back of the line.

Then this big young white guy comes into the store. And instead of going to the BACK of the line. He stations himself ALONG SIDE the line. Just in front of me. The classic cut-in-the-line move.

When the line moves forward I quickly step ahead of him so he can’t cut in front of me.

He turns around and faces me. Menacingly. And says: “I was here before you,” he lies.

I don’t back down. It’s one of those macho things.

He bores down on me: “My girlfriend sent me in here to buy a pack of Camel Crush. And I was here before you.”

I can tell he’s drunk and he’s an asshole and he’s quite willing — if not eager — to physically fight with me to assert his place in the line.

I momentarily consider kicking him in the nuts. And then, as he’s writhing on the floor in pain, I take my rightful place ahead of him.

Instead — after quickly considering my options — I say: “If it’s that important to you, you can go first.”

He leers at me and says: “You know how they say pardon in French? Pard-OWN.”

“If it’s that important to you, you can go first,” I repeat. I step back and allow him to cut in front of me.

Now as we’re waiting on line I’m staring at the back of his head. And I’m thinking how easily I could bash his head in. But there are laws against that sort of thing. So I decide against that option.

He buys his pack of Camel Crush. Makes his exit. I buy my 6-pack. And then watch as he crosses in the middle of the street, pisses all over the wall of the Berkeley Games store. Then sits down against the wall with his girlfriend and they light up their Camel Crush cigarettes.

The holidays always bring out all the amateur drunks.

.

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out /  Change )

Google photo

You are commenting using your Google account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )

Connecting to %s