What good is a blog if you can't rant once in a while? I figured Monday was a good day to do just that.
So, I went to the store last night with Skylar and of course she wanted to get one of those carts that has a car on the front. Who invented those? Obviously not a PARENT, or he/she would NOT have made them absolutely impossible to steer! They are twice the size of a normal cart, so navigating the store "displays" is always a treat. She picked one out and I reached for a sanitation wipe to de-germ it and of course, they were out. So I pushed it (heaved it) into the store just as my cell phone and keys went slipping through the GIANT slats (yes they are bigger than normal) and crashing to the floor. My cell phone broke into three separate pieces and scattered into three separate directions. As I'm picking up the battery, battery cover, and phone, the guy behind me (who apparently can't go around my HUGE hiney) lets out a deep, loud, sigh.
Seriously?! You're going to *sigh* at me? Obviously I PLANNED to drop my belongings right in front of you. I was put on earth to frustrate you.
I went to grab a frozen pizza for dinner (nevermind that it was already 7:30pm) and the pizza section was buried in the chilled beer section. In order to get to it, I had to push my behemoth of a cart past three wine displays with barely an inch to spare on either side. I got to the pizza door and realized, "Great. I can't open the door to get pizza out with my cart in front of it." So, then I had to back my car cart back out, leave my 3 year old sitting in the germ infested taxi, while I grabbed two frozen pizzas that I knew I would regret eating. As I was grabbing the pizzas, Skylar was shouting "I want a cheese one mommy!", a lady was trying to get down the same aisle and says "Is this your cart?"
Seriously?! No, the kid inside just keeps calling me Mommy!
Pizzas, milk, and cheese in the cart, we headed to the produce section to find that wonderful strawberry glaze to make a strawberry pie with our freshly picked strawberries. After walking around for a few minutes, I asked someone. His response, "Hmmm, we used to. Did you check by the strawberries?"
No, Einstein! I hadn't thought of that. They didn't teach me common sense in grad school. Seriously.
Without said glaze, we headed over to checkout. My initial instinct was to do the "self checkout." I should have followed it. Instead I went through a regular checkout lane. The guy in front of me was wearing a USC sweatshirt. Apparently the checker had serious opinions about "private schools."
"Oh, you went to the University of Spoiled Children!" Haha...funny. The guy in front of me chuckled a bit, grabbed his groceries, and left. Then, the checker turns to me and says "Guess his parents forgot to buy him a sense of humor."
Oh, hilarious! You're so funny. You should be a stand up comedian (hopefully you can hear the sarcasm).
Most people would have just stopped talking there, but no, not this guy. He goes on to tell me that he thinks people that pay that much for education are not so smart afterall. Apparently anyone that goes to a private school is privileged and has rich parents. As opposed to you buddy...czar of checkers!
Seriously? Instinct told me to keep my mouth shut, but somebody had to put this guy in his place. I went to TWO private colleges and my parents are not among the wealthy.
I opened my mouth and let it all just spew out...."yah, he probably drives a beamer and wears a cigar jacket and has a butler." He chuckled. "I bet he has a wife named Babs that he calls 'dahling' and two adorable children with names that end in 'the third' and a summer home on the lake."
He stopped chuckling.
"Or maybe he's a normal person like me that went to a private school because it was the best education available. And maybe he worked hard to put himself through school, like me, without help from his average, working class parents." Silence. "Or maybe he got that sweatshirt at walmart cuz he likes the team. I'm just sayin..."
He handed me my receipt without a word and just nodded his head.
At least he didn't ask me what I do for a living. When folks hear that I have a masters and I'm a SAHM, I get a plethora of ignorant responses. But that's a whole other post.
Skylar and I left the store; Her with a sticker, and me with my dignity (and a cell phone in three pieces).
Of course on our way out, I ran the pink taxi into the sliding glass doors. Seriously?! Thank goodness "driving a car cart" is not on the DMV requirements for safe drivers!
And while I'm at it....why is it 95 degrees in April? In the words of Franklin (yes the cartoon turtle), "Spriiing, where are you?!"
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