Self checkouts make me CRAZY!

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Boxwine. 'nuff said. |
Ms. B Cartfull is the one who rolls up to the scanner with a
cart overflowing with just about everything in the store except a kiddie pool.
She is way too busy to stand in line and she doesn’t give a rat's furry ass about
anyone else so she decides to make everyone else miserable. No manner of evil
looks can discourage this woman. Like a Kardashian watching her own sex tape
being projected in Times Square, she holds her head up and ignores the “haters”
seething behind her.
She then starts the painful process of attempting to scan
and bag 100 bags of crap, two bags at a time. It doesn’t help that she’s as
coordinated Lindsay Lohan on an Oxy high. She takes FOREVER and even the
walmart dude is giving her the dirty looks. But she doesn’t care. At least she
pays with a debit card, which is more than I can say for Mr. Coinpurse.
Mr. Coinpurse brings
only a few items, but when it comes time to pay, Mr. Coinpurse insists on
using all the change he has in his coin purse. Even if he's buying a digital
camera. I’ve stood by while people inserted coin after coin, sinking me further
and further into a numismatic hell. They pull out the coin, look at it to
confirm that it is the right denomination, then fumble to insert into the slot.
Again and again this goes on like a slow flogging. The paradox is that you can’t
really berate them because they are usually older folks and if you did it would
be like nut-punching the Pope. It just ain’t done. But in reality I think they
know what they are doing and just want to fuck with me.
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Where's that barcode? |
Mrs. Shitforbrains. What can you say. This is a woman who
just can’t seem to understand how the scanner works. She will scan an item
three thousand times before she calls the supervisor over. I’m not certain how
she operates a moving vehicle since she possesses the IQ of spoiled cheese. She
moves slowly at an ever slowing pace, lumbering along one item at a time. She
is not cognizant of anyone else in line she isn’t really cognizant of anything,
except her phone which is pressed between her shoulder and ear as if a piece of
leathery skin held them there. BLAH BLAH BLAH she bellows, unable to scan and
talk without thinking. She makes me WANT TO SMASH!!!!

For some reason, they think it’s a great idea to have 225
toothbrushes or fifty gallons of mouthwash in the special room they created in
their basement.
I want to walk up to them and give them a business card for TLC
and tell them:
Pick one: Doomsday Preppers or Hoarders., and no you can't choose both.
Mouth breathers do need a lot of toothpaste and mouthwash. Who wants to smell their vile breath everytime they exhale?
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