I shouldn't be allowed to shop aloneSubmitted by w_t_a_y_s_t_r_m at 2009-06-26 09:35:05 EDT
Rating: 1.95 on 41 ratings (41 reviews) (Review this item) (V)
My home is directly opposite a massive supermarket. And when I say directly opposite, I mean it could not be any closer. The people who live in the block of flats attached to it actually have to walk further to get there than I do. It's sad in a way, because it demonstrates my laziness of sometimes going hungry because I can't be arsed to make the three minute walk to go and buy some butter for my sandwich, and I'll be fucked if I'm having dry bread. That's for those fuckers on the funny Oxfam adverts.
Because the level of my lethargy is so monumental, yester day when I had a sudden burst of energy and a bank balance without a minus figure in front of it, I decided to do a large shop that would hopefully last my girlfriend and I at least a week without having to go over again.
I instantly regretted it. While I was half way around I was thinking of just abandoning the trolley part full of shit and just picking up a Pot Noodle and a pack of smokes. I never realised how many assholes there are walking around supermarkets that seem to just be there to piss off awesome people like me. I assume it's a jealousy thing, but it got me thinking how I wish I was more confrontational.
And by confrontational I mean beat the shit out of random people and not feel any guilt and get away with it.
Thinking it would be quite nice to have a steak pie with mash for dinner that night I wondered down the relevant aisle. As I approached the correct section there was a queue. That's right; I had to wait in line to retrieve a fucking pie from a shelf. What's worse, the bunch of hippos in my way weren't even there for pie; they were there for quiche (aka. Hitler's Bastardised Pie).
As I waited patiently, I began to think how I could get the pie quicker. If I did a jump kick into the woman at the back's knee, it would instantly buckle under her weight. In the same, swift movement I could do a spin. Not only would it look badass, I could bring my other foot around and kick her trolley into the next woman. She was tall enough that the trolley would double her over, causing her to fall in face first and roll out of the way. That would just leave the man currently at the front...
Oh great, he picked his quiche, just two to take out.
I was about to execute my plan, but then realised I had neither the energy nor the ability right then.
A short while later, pies safely in my trolley, I was in the soft drinks section, trying to decide between Red Rooster or Cherry Coke. When I remembered my bank accountant was in credit (that's right, fuck you economy), I turned to the trolley to put both in there, only to find I was suddenly blocked in by two other people looking at the drinks.
"Not on my watch." I screamed, leaping over my own trolley. I threw the can of Cherry Coke at the one on left, catching them clean in the head with such force they flew through the shelves. On the jump I kicked the other cart out of the way, pinning the woman on the right against those shelves. I pulled my own trolley towards and through the gap, only to be confronted with the husband of one of the women.
He swung a right at me, that I easily batted away, which was followed up instantly by a hard left. Effortlessly and gracefully I pulled the Red Rooster can up in front of his fist, causing him to punch it on the end, busting his knuckles up. I spun around for extra force and slammed the can of Red Rooster into the side of his face, knocking him/killing him.
"Too much effort." I muttered to myself. The woman on the left just turned and gave me a dirty look. "Excuse me, could I get pass please?"
A massive sigh later, like I'd just asked her to help me move house, she shuffled her crap out of the way giving me exactly enough space to just squeeze pass. "Lucky escape." I whispered as I went by, which was followed by an even dirtier look. That's right bitch, you got let off that day.
Next up was baked beans. Can't have pie and mash without beans. Unless you have it with gravy. But I wasn't. I was having it with beans.
Why the hell are there so many different types of beans? What the fuck is up with that? Are all these companies trying to one-up each other, because as far as I can tell there can't be that many different ways to configure bake some beans and put them in a tomato sauce. As I started to get overwhelmed I called over the nearest shelf stacker.
"Which beans should I get?" The guy just looked at me like I asked him to name my firstborn.
"I don't know." He said, turning back to his spaghetti hoops.
"Oi!" I yelled. He stood up straight, still facing away. "I asked you a question."
"And I told you I don't know." He said in an almost whisper, still facing away from me.
"Oh I get it." I said. "You don't like people like me."
"Excuse me?" His head tipped towards me slightly, so I got a side view of his face.
"You're jealous of me because I'm amazing. I don't see why I should have to put up with this prejudice."
He began to slowly throw the small tin he was already holding up and down like a tennis ball, catching it with a slight thud in his palm. "You think you're so clever don't you? Think you've got it all figured out?" With a flick of his whole body he rotated and threw the tin of spaghetti hoops at me. Quickly overcoming the surprise I leapt forward and performed the greatest scissor kick ever seen. I later found out that one witness gouged out his eyes because he wanted it to be the last thing he ever saw.
The tips of my toes landed on the can perfectly, sending it into a spin straight to the ceiling.
"You missed." The stacker laughed at me.
"Did I?" I asked, just as the light directly above him caved in.
"Too cliche." I said out loud.
"What?" The stacker asked me, still holding out a tin of Heinz Baked Beans.
"Nothing. Those'll do." I said. "Thanks."
Starting to feel like my mind was properly skipping away through an opium den hand in hand a life-sized Pillsbury Dough Boy I made my way quickly to the checkout, needing to get out and into the fresh air before I did actually start to go crazy, and turn into a full blown lunatic.
As the girl scanned stuff through and I packed as frantically as I could, she went through the required talk of
"How are you?"
"Do you have a Nectar card?" (Kind of like a loyalty card)
"Did you find everything you wanted today?"
"Everything, except adventure." I said. She looked confused. "I'd have probably been arrested anyway."
"Probably best you didn't do it then." She continued scanning items through.
"You know what." She said, nodding towards the beans, cans of drink and pie that had just come through the scanner. I assume she's a witch.
I paid and hurried out, shopping nearly weighing me down. Now I'm not sure if I imagined that bit or not, but just in case I'm going back tonight to burn her.