There are more stupid people.
Yesterday, I went to the grocery store for some cleaning supplies (because we still have no cleaning service at work...ugh). You may have already read my original rant about grocery shopping. If not, it's long, but I find it entertaining.
I decided to stop and get a sandwich in the deli while I was at the store. Stupidity ensued:
Me: I'd like a pastrami panini with cheddar cheese, please.
Deli Lady: Okay, ma'am, I'll get that right out for you, ma'am.
Me: (Internally) Ouch. Two ma'ams in one sentence.
Deli Lady: That comes with spicy mustard. Is that okay with you, ma'am?
Me: (Ouch) Actually, could I have ranch dressing instead?
DL: Yes, ma'am. That's no problem at all ma'am. Would you like to pay $1.50 more for chips and a drink today, ma'am?
DL: This sandwich look so good. Will you be needin' some dessert today, ma'am?
Me: No thanks.
DL: We got some good pastries now, before you just say no, why don't you go over and have a looksee, ma'am.
Me: No thanks. I don't want dessert.
DL: You say you wanted what on this sandwich?
Me: Pastrami, cheddar cheese, ranch dressing.
DL: What kinda cheese?
DL: And would you like to pay $1.50 more for chips and a drink with your sandwich today, ma'am?
Me: (Ugh) Sure. That sounds great.
DL: And you'll be wantin' some dessert. Go on over there and pick you out a nice pastry.
Me: No thanks, I don't need dessert.
DL: Now we got some good desserts. You need to take a look before you say no.
Me: But I don't need to look because I don't want dessert.
At that point, she started to put the ranch dressing on the bread (what she's been doing up to this point can only be described as nothing). I guess the bottle was almost empty because when she squeezed it, it gave that smoker's cough sound like squeeze bottles do when they're almost out of stuff.
She gave it an almighty shake and a giant mound of ranch goo plopped down on my sandwich.
DL: Well, now, let me go get a fresh bottle. That one didn't hardly have nothin' in it.
Me: That's more than enough for me. Thanks.
She didn't spread it around or anything. She just left it as a big blob in the middle of the bread. And proceeded to put the pastrami on top. The pastrami to ranch ratio was about 1:300. I'm not sure about units, but you get the idea.
DL: Now, do you want to pay $1.50 extra for chips and a drink today?
Me: Sure, that sounds great.
At this point, I feel like my 88-year-old dead great-grandmother has come back to life and I'm sitting on the couch with her that day in December when she thought it was June and she told me 37 times in as many minutes, "My, this is awfully strange weather we're having for June."
DL: And will you be wantin' an ambrosia salad for your dessert?
Me: (I don't even know what fucking ambrosia salad is, but as I've already told you at least three times that I don't want any variety of dessert, what do you think the answer is? Bitch.) No, thanks. I don't need any dessert.
DL: No dessert? Well, all right, if I can't convince you. Did you want to pay $1.50 extra for chips and a drink?
Me: (Goddamn insane fucking grocery deli woman, FUCKING YES I WANT TO PAY $1.50 EXTRA FOR CHIPS AND A DRINK. At this point I would pay $5.00 extra if you'd just stop asking me.) Yes, that would be wonderful.
I picked out my chips and went to stand by the register, as my ranch-o-riffic sandwich was on the pannini grill thingy. The deli lady was still talking incessantly about who knows what.
DL: Well, now, let's go ahead and ring you up, ma'am. That sandwich will be ready in just a few minutes.
I put my chips on the counter and she looked at me, blankly.
DL: Now, did you want chips and a drink? Lord, child, why didn't you say so? That's just fine now, just fine. Let me just go ring that up.
Me: (red face, smoke coming out of ears, about to explode into a cussing mess) Okay.
DL: And can I get you some dessert? We have a lot of tasty pastries in our bakery.
Me: (actually holding hands behind back so as not to punch the bitch) No, I think I'm okay without dessert today.
DL: Okay, here's your cup. Now, let me tell you about this soda fountain, ma'am. Them lids, they on the bottom. But the straws? They on the top. You just come get me if you have any trouble.
Finally I got my sandwich and started running for the door. Literally. I just wanted to get out of the store before my head exploded. And that's when I realized that I forgot to get any of the cleaning supplies.
I trudged back in and gathered them up, only to discover that they have two lanes open and each one has about five people in it. Murder. Rage. Death. The lady who bagged my groceries asked me three times if I needed help carrying my purchases out. I only bought four items. She only has four teeth. I win.
02 April 2009
There are more stupid people.