Ever gone to a grocery store to just buy one single item? Not even something you really need, just something small. Like a can of coke, or a box of cookies, or something like that. You know, you’re out someplace and you want a quick bite or drink, but don’t feel like getting ripped off at a snack bar, fast food restaurant, or chippie? So you spot a grocery store and decide to go there for something equally fulfilling for a much lower price.
So you get what you need, a can of coke, and stand in line at the cash register behind some guy doing his annual groceries. He’s got three shopping carts lined up there, each of them filled with stuff he’s picked up in a valiant act of mindless consumerism. You know the kind, they’re always standing in line in front of you when you’re in a hurry and only need one small thing. It’s impossible not to be in a hurry when you’re only buying something small. You’re not getting much out of this. If the investment in the shopping exercise was any bigger, you’d have more patience for this. But all this just for 1 (one) can of coke? No. No patience. Patience is for the weak.
While you’re waiting you inspect the items he’s buying because, well, you’ve got nothing better to do at this point. Being stuck there and all. Mountains of hygiene products, layers and layers of ham, more bread than you’d see in a normal bakery, enough milk to make a cow burst. And that’s just the visible part, who knows what else is buried underneath all that crap? Well, you’re gonna find out sooner or later, as he’s unloading all of it right now. It’s an exercise that can last a lifetime. At least it feels like a lifetime.
That’s not all either.
He brought his entire family shopping with him. Or least, the five hundred closest relatives he’s got. They’re all still in the shop, adding more shopping carts to his and they make their way to the cash register. So now it’s not just this jerk-off in front of you, it’s his whole fuckweed family that’s in line before you. But they’re shopping together, so it’s okay. Naturally, since they’re all shopping together, they’re still paying separately, of course. Isn’t that convenient?
Since there’s so much crap going past the register, things are bound to go wrong sooner or later. Items won’t scan. Milk cartons are leaking. Lettuce is covered in bees. They got the wrong flavor of Tasteless Colorful Combination of Chemical Cereal. They didn’t notice that was Rat Poison Lite instead of Classic. Banking card doesn’t feel like getting accepted. One of the five billion kids they brought has gone missing. It’s always something.
Meanwhile you’re standing there with you one can of coke staring at this circus that’s playing out in front of you. You’ll start looking around to see if there are other cash registers open right now. There usually aren’t, even if there aren, you’re afraid that you’ll have a similar problem playing out from the start if you’d move there. So you dare not move.
Now you start wondering: “Do I really want this can of coke this badly?” You probably don’t. Then you start wondering if you can add this can of coke their stuff and get away with it without them noticing. When it turns out you actually can, you wonder how much more crap you can hide behind that mountain of toilet paper they’re buying. So you add a whole bunch of pointless crap they likely don’t need and see if they notice. They usually don’t.
The moral of this whole story? I don’t know.
Don’t piss me off when I’m trying to buy a damned can of coke.