Monday, May 2, 2011

Working Class

For reasons that escape me, I always end up at the grocery store on the first of the month. I don’t receive food stamps, WIC, or any other sort of state assistance. Also, I know that there are times when people really do need help, but most of the time the system is abused, and we all know it.
In short, I should know better than to go to the store on the first of the month.

Needless to say, there I am: dodging people with carts piled to the ceiling with soda, oven pizzas and screaming bare-footed childrens. I have two goals while I’m at the store:

1.) Avoid anyone I know because I was looking FRIGHTENING.
2.) Not spend more than $127.00 because that is how much cash I had in my wallet.

I accomplished my first goal with flying colors. Now, it is entirely possible that they saw me in my frazzled, un-kept state and thought, “Wow, Lucy is lookin’ rough. I better stay away from her.” Anyway, here’s where the story gets interesting.

As the checker lady is ringing me up, I begin to unfold and count my very large, but extremely organized stack of one and five dollar bills. From behind me, I hear an obnoxious sigh, and in a voice that probably shattered the eardrums of dogs oceans away, someone says, “Jesus Christ. Now this is really going to take forever. She’s paying with ones.”
I stopped counting my money, (which was already divided into ten stacks of ten, by the way) gathered every bit of it back up, and began to count it like a little, senile old woman. Licking my finger and everything. It probably took me a solid five minutes to count it out, and then…here’s the kicker: I dug around in the bottom of my purse to find exact change. She sighed and coughed and talked obnoxiously about how sometimes people could be so annoying.

Let me tell you something, lady. I am part of the working class that is paying for your food stamps, Bitch.

Sure, it took me a while to count out my money while I was paying for my groceries, but at least I did actual work to get them monies…You know, aside from popping out children. (There were 6 children with her, by the way.) So, my advice is to you is this:

1.) Don’t piss off the people that are a part of the working class that pay for your damn groceries….when you do, you are biting the hand that feeds you, literally.

2.) Homemade marijuana leaf tattoos are SO last year

3.) Bitch, when it’s 50 degrees outside… booty shorts and a translucent t-shirt aren’t the wisest of clothing choices.

Have your pets spade and neutered. That is all.

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