“Excuse me, you may not be aware of this but you just stepped on my toe.”
“I brushed your toe.”
“No, it was more like a River Dance on my toe and you chipped my pedicure and scuffed my shoe.”
“Do you want a prize?”
Starbuck’s goes silent.
I give her the you really need to run or commit suicide right now before I catch you look…
Now Kittens, it took every ounce of class and restraint not to knock the fuck out of that jackhole of an inconsiderate woman. In these particular hooker heels, I stand about 6’2″- she was in tennis shoes and maybe came eye to eye with my nipples.
“No, but I would appreciate it if you acted like some measure of a decent human being and apologize”. Is that so hard? I guess so. I had to let her live since I’m trying to stay on the sunny side of Karma. I really wanted to grab her by the hair and shove her face into my foot. Instead I control myself because I have yet to sip in my coffee fueled charming personality.
What is worse than rude people is their kids. I hate screaming kids. In fact , I am so fed up with screaming uncontrolled kids that when I go to a restaurant- I will ask to be seated away from fucktards with small children. Sorry- if your cute little perfect spawn of Satan is screaming, how about you stop shoveling queso into your head and maybe take them outside and drown them in a fountain. Anything. Just stop the screaming or you can pay for my meal and the ginormous bar tab I am about to run up so I have a drinking problem to blame when the nice officer asks me why I just shanked you with my broken martini glass. More awesome is when I am shopping and I can not get away from the little darlings because they are fucking running around on fire and screaming up and down every aisle and leaving a mountain of knocked over merchandise in their wake.
I was at Office Depot last week trying to get a Day Planner so I can be all organized. Seems The Man can’t get his paper calendar in sync with my gadget calendar because he can’t see it so I have to return to the dark ages and start writing on paper. Anyway, as I was trying to figure out which system had the most room for my doodling and could withstand a Sharpie marker these two ass monkey guys and their four banshee children start swarming around me. So I give them the look- the please shut your children up before I throw them in the box crusher look. They continue to run around and scream. Then I ask them to please keep it down- reasonable , right? The two douche nozzles turn to each other and speak in another language. Oh dear God- now I am pissed. Fucking card-carrying American pissed. So I say, with my hand in their bubbles, ” Oh no no- You control your kids before I do. Stop being rude and if you have something to say to me you better say it in English”. English is the language I will be kicking their asses in so it’s only fair to level the playing field so the sissies can’t claim lack of comprehension for the ass mowing they are about to receive. See, look at me be fair! Kids. Are. Still. Running. And screaming. Me ,”Seriously- you know what – why don’t you pack them up and just have your wife watch the little fucktards like every other day.” Something else in a foreign language. Before I start killing children and end up on some ovary fest channel like Lifetime chronicling my Office Depot murder spree , I cuss them out in Spanish and get the hell out of there. Spanish because they were speaking something middle eastern and I can’t call them an inconsiderate dirty whore in their language. The Man already left- he probably is in the get away car with the engine running.