There are several places I must frequent that I simply despise with a fiery passion.
Namely, the grocery store. It is not fair, Gucci Giant, to ask me whether $254.98 is 'okay' when I swipe my bank card, when I really have no choice in the matter whatsoever. I need to eat, and you happen to be on my way home from work. So until I can answer 'no' and enter a more appropriate amount, do not ask me. I don't like to be taunted over my produce.
Secondly, I loathe the gas station. I feel ethically compelled to use a gas station with no known ties to shifty politicians and/or one that has not totally obliterated an ecosystem. Therein lies my first issue. My slightly bigger problem with the gas station is that I don't really feel like I get anything for my $55/tank. Yeah, sure, it fuels my car...for the drive to work, school, soccer, guitar and playdates. Thanks so much, really. I'd rather put the $55/week towards a chauffeur.
Last, but certainly not least, is the Target Pharmacy. There is so much about the Target Pharmacy that irks me. Why is the staff so angry? Why do they shout the names of my medications across the counter so loudly that people in the electronics department now know what I'm taking? Why am I nearly in fisticuffs over the lack of crowd control every time I go?
I'm neurotic today because...
...an old lady snapped at me in the cough medicine aisle at Target because I passed by her cart without notifying her. While I cannot mimic her tone, I believe her exact words were, 'You could've just said excuse me and I would've moved it'. And here I thought I was being polite, not interrupting her search for stool softener.
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