Rant, Rant, Rant

Saturday, April 15, 2006

Rant, Rant, Rant Category: Blogging This is my blog, and it's my god-given right - or Tom-given right, as the case may be - to be as pissy as I wanna be. Here's a short (yeah, right) list of things on my mind this easter Saturday: 1. The prick behind me in line at the grocery store. We're in the 15 items or less line. I had: 10 jars of baby food (just in case), a jar of salsa, a tomato, a bottle of dish liquid, and a 4-pack of Beamish. Now let me preface by pointing out that I didn't have a cart. Not even one of those little carry-baskets. Just everything in my arms to make the event go more quickly. I ran in the store on the way home from work to pick up dish soap, because I knew we were almost out. While I was there, I grabbed a few more jars of food for the boy (one can never have enough), a tomato for tonite's salad, and a jar of salsa (because we have about 4 bags of chips left over from the last party, and I totally forgot we have the industrial-sized 55 gallon drum of salsa from Sam's still unopened). As an impulse purchase, I grabbed a 4-pack of beamish (that's a beer similar to Guinness for those of you unfamiliar with my beer-snob tastes). Total items, 14.This waste of sperm decides he wants to chat. Those of you who know me know that I'm not the most out-going person in the world. Very shy, very reserved...that is until I warm up to the group. Bobby Bigmouth behind me starts babbling about how unfair it is that the stores allow people with too many items in the express checkouts. How there ought to be someone there policing the lines making sure that no one sneaks in the under 20 item line with 23 items. I smile, make brief eye contact, nod and turn around hoping he'll leave me alone and get the hint that I really don't want to discuss life-altering maters with him. Nope. Not today. He then taps me on the shoulder and points out that I have too many items to be in the 15 item line. I quietly tell him otherwise, and again turn around, place my 14 items on the belt, and proceed to check out. Dudley Dipshit then starts talking even more loudly, to anyone who will listen, about how I cheated the system and snuck in line with too many items. I have a short fuse. Always have. I turn around, and raise MY voice now, and point out that the only way I have more than 15 items is if I count EACH BEER individually. He seems to think that's the way it should be. I retort with "Well, I pay for all 4 as one item...see? All 4 cans scan as 1 item". This was like throwing jet fuel on a brush fire. He starts screaming for the manager. The poor sap checking me out looks at me like "Why did you start a holy war with an idiot?'. I think that's what his look meant...I'm not too sure, as I don't read minds. On second thought, not sure how swift he could have been. After all, he looked like the type that got drool on his employment application. But I digress... I took my 14 items and left, shaking my head all the way to the truck. 2. My dog is not feeling well. Not sure what the problem is. He didn't eat all day yesterday, and was off his food again this morning. Wife got up the last 2 nights to let him out in the middle of the night. He NEVER gets up like that. This morning he had the trots...so I gave him some oatmeal with his kibble. He only ate half. I see big vet bills in my future. 3. Took the boy to the zoo yesterday. Spent some quality daddy time with him. Just the 2 of us. Mommy was at work, so the boys hung together all day. We had a great time, but I forgot sunscreen, so his right arm and cheeks are a little red. You'd think I took him to a strip-club. My mother-in-law lit into me about how he's gonna get skin cancer now, and it's all my fault. (As a sidenote, my in-laws live across the street from me now...as their house took on 9 feet of water for three weeks). Long story short, I am in the doghouse because I forgot one thing. 4. I'm fighting off a cold. That gets me pissy. My damn nose is running like a faucet, and I'm sneezing. Started when we went to the petting zoo. I'm allergic to everything living, and should have known better, but there's something about letting the boy play with a farm animal. He enjoys it. The sad of it is, I had to take an allergy pill. I hate taking medicine. makes me droopy. So I got my ass chewed by moms-in-law while seeing her with 3 heads. 5. Democrats. They just piss me off. In general, and in principle. 6. Tom doesn't have a spell checker on any of his features. That sucks. I blame any type-o's on him. ADDENDUM-6.17.06--The above-mentioned guy in line at the Save-A-Center just happened to be the paranoid-schitzophrenic Vietnam Vet who blocked himself in his mother's house on Alexander Street in Metairie and had a 2 day standoff with SWAT this past week. Turns out he was found dead with a bullet to the head at around 5am on Friday, June 16th. Read the newspaper for more details. They didn't mention anything about how he liked to harass people in line while they make groceries. I'm writing a letter to the editor to rectify that situation right now. That's not right...making light of mental illness. I've been down that road myself.