Thursday, May 19, 2005

doo doo do doo

Usually I drop into the shops in the evening, but today I made the (almost fatal) mistake of going at 11am when, rather than going to the mall, I entered the twilight zone. There were old people everywhere, and they all were swarming like ants at a picnic. I counted at least twenty million of them pushing their way through the entrance to the supermarket, and at least twenty million more falling out of the exit doors and back into the mall.

Then it dawned on me. Pension day.

Someone needs to tell these people realise that shopping for food isn't a competition, and that the person who grabs the last All-Bran from the shelf isn't the winner, you don't need to push me out of the way, because there are a shit load (no pun intended) more boxes of the stuff in the store room out back.

I'm not going to apologise for what comes next because I'm going to be old one day, and I bet some young whippersnapper is going to bitch about me then too, in which case, I'll get mine eventually, so pthhhh.

While I appreciate that the geriatric contingent among us fought for our country, I don't appreciate it when that same contingent runs right over my toes with their shopping trolleys while stampeding the cereal aisle. This is not a competition etc, and I'm not an opponent. God.

Secondly, running the same damn trolley into the back of my ankles is NOT going to make the checkout queue go any faster. Thankyou. Also, it may have been a while ago, but didn't your mother teach you it was rude to push in?

One would assume that, having escaped the store, the nightmare was over. Wrong. The car park was even worse because instead of pushing trolleys, they were driving (and I use the term loosely) cars, and usually oversized ones.

Is there a direct relationship between age and car size? Because instead of parking their moderately sized family vehicles, they all appeared to be berthing the QEII.

Speaking of cars, what is it with the white bowling hat and requisite box of Kleenex in the back window? And what is it with age and engine size? Turn 78, get a V8?

In other news, I'm tired and I need to nap, so, the end.

2005-2007© aibee