Halloween weekend at Johnston’s Market

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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.

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VICTORY IS MINE!!

 

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VICTORY IS MINE!! Everyone who knows me knows I’m famous for hating waiting on lines (I have the patience of a flea). So I was just at the Dollar Tree. And there’s a pretty long line, like usual. This elderly Asian lady is at the end of the line. So I take my place alongside her. I did that because that’s how the line usually works at Dollar Tree. The line veers right at that point, because if I had taken the spot directly behind her I would be blocking the flow of traffic┬áin the main aisle.

So then this woman with a kid shows up. She ignores me and takes the spot directly behind the Asian woman.

When the Asian woman steps up towards the counter I immediately step up behind her.

“EXCUSE me!” said the woman with the kid. “I’m waiting on line here.”

“I was in line before you,” I said.

“No you weren’t. My kid was here,” she lied.

“Oh. . . OK,” I said. And I move behind her. I’m pissed. But what can you do? Make a big ugly scene over something trivial? (I momentarily considered that option but then thought better of it).

But then as luck would have it, a Dollar Tree employee calls out: “This other cash register is now open!”

I whisk to the head of that line, pay for my groceries, and as I prance towards the exit I can’t help glancing over at the woman with the kid. She’s still waiting on line with 2 people ahead of her. I give her a happy little smile. She glares back at me like she wants to kill me. And I exit stage left.

And, for once, justice prevails.

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