Yesterday I experienced line cutting for the first time. There I was, waiting patiently in line at the QuickyBiz gas station convenience store mart. All I wanted was a little bottle of milk that should have cost 99 cents but actually cost my first child and my soul. Was it too much to ask?
Apparently.
Out of nowhere (truly - she might as well have been beamed down from above) a woman wafted in front of me in line. She kept her gaze evenly trained on the horizon and feigned deafness when I pleaded with her. By the time her transaction was complete, I was 30 seconds late in catching the Kindness bus trolley van, so I ran her down in the parking lot as she hovered vaguely toward her vehicle.
I’m writing this from a safe place, but if the cops find me, I want you to tell the world: Never buy milk from the gas station because it’s two dollars cheaper at the grocery store. You’re welcome.
Apparently.
Out of nowhere (truly - she might as well have been beamed down from above) a woman wafted in front of me in line. She kept her gaze evenly trained on the horizon and feigned deafness when I pleaded with her. By the time her transaction was complete, I was 30 seconds late in catching the Kindness bus trolley van, so I ran her down in the parking lot as she hovered vaguely toward her vehicle.
I’m writing this from a safe place, but if the cops find me, I want you to tell the world: Never buy milk from the gas station because it’s two dollars cheaper at the grocery store. You’re welcome.
I applaud the use of the words “beamed”, “wafted”, and “hovered” in this tale of woe. Indeed, I read it twice just to appreciate them fully
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