I’m on Autosnark lately and it isn’t a good look on me. I have no control over it. The hate just pours out. No one – particularly those with panty lines, patches of dense, uncombed hair, or dark ankle socks – is safe from my thought wrath. Not nice, and I know it, and it’s disappointing, because it’s intrusive and embarrassing. Not like those nude photos you let your ex take. But in my own head, of course. Mostly.
When I was traveling in Texas, I witnessed a snark so invasive and over the top that it caught me off guard. I was in a Safeway, walking between two women on opposite sides of the aisle, one texting, the other buying at least 80 rolls of toilet paper. As I passed, Charmin woman quipped to the other, “Miss, I don’t think they pay you to stand around and text.” And I thought HILARIOUS. These women are co-workers and they’ve run into each other during their lunch hours. Rock on, funny gals who could both use makeovers.
See? There I go again.
I turned around just as the texter launched into a rather long explanation about how she was actually off the Safeway clock so this wasn’t on work time and the texts were from family about needing chicken for dinner. Michigan, to be exact – the family, not the chicken. And what do you know? Meddlie McMeddlerson apparently had family in Michigan and the two struck up a conversation. Which is funny, because my response likely would have included brilliance along the lines of “Mind your own beeswax!” and quite possibly a snap kick to the head.
So no, these women didn’t know each other. One just saw fit to share her views in the middle of the fucking Safeway. Holy crap.
So this morning I’m at 7-11, keeping Super Big Gulp stocks at their deserved high, when I see a line at the register. And only one cashier is working. So what does the DC Queen of Mean do? She scans the store to see where the other employees are. Loafing, probably! Loitering by the Slim Jims! Having their way with rolls of scratch offs while I stand here wasting my old-fashioned Republican work time!
Let the record show that I was at least five miles from the register line, but was still filling up the Gulp, and had no earthly idea what that line would look like by the time I got there. But I was right on the verge of saying something. I just had to be involved, had to snark on those lazy employees, who of course were elsewhere making coffee and stocking four-pound cinnamon buns just as they should have been.
I miss the days when I was more Rose than Sophia.
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Those Super Big Gulps don’t help; the U.S. sugar industry earns enough from them to cover the Cuban national debt, and all that sweetness doesn’t seem to do much for your overall morning disposition. I say this in friendship, of course.
I DRINK DIET! LAY OFF! *regains poise*
How was she supposed to get the chicken from Texas to Michigan?
I really, really like the people who strike up such an in depth, self-dislosing, earth shattering, cancer-curing conversation in the middle of the aisle that they wind up blocking it like a Nats game doubleheader during rush hour.
Then, when you want by, they look at you like you’re an asshat.
Goddammit now I want a Big Gulp. THANKS A LOT.
You need to be more zen like. And Buddha always drank Diet too.
And those employees at the Sev were probably just out back smoking weed. Per uzh.
Super Big Gulp in the morning?? Are you a character from “Reality Bites?”
I always saw you as more of a Blanche.
Heck, at least you aren’t a Dorothy.
Oh, well, yes, of course, DIET sodas are SO much better for you. And one can’t help but admire your poise and your calm demeanor. Very impressive! :)
I hope you didn’t scare the cats.
A pitbull with lipstick? You are Dorothy!
ignorance is actually not so much bliss as annoying, right?
Hey, I gave you an award over at my blog. Just an upnod and some linkage, ‘cuz you know I think you rock. Just stick it in your desk with the rest, my pixelated friend.
Is “Rose” and “Sophia” some sort of Golden Girls reference? Which one was the disturbingly horny grandmother?
***Shudder
Like the Palin reference. I prefer you to her, sight unseen. Because you are Sophia and she is…well, I’ll keep this a family friendly blog and not go there, for the moment.
Hmmm. I’ve been noticin’ a little of that in myself lately. I wonder if it’s just that we’re gettin’ older and don’t really give a shit anymore and speak what we want to? But that’s no excuse, really. Is it? Then again, ask me if I care *grin*
But Rose was so dumb.
And here I am, eternally damned to be Dorothy.
i’m guessing you’d be snarking on me today with my shitty attitude, sweatpant wearing, loud-mouth yapping to everyone everything they didn’t want to know and more.
I adore snark. I can totally relate. And I kind of CAN’T relate to people who never do it. Are they even human?
Hey, coming from an ex-retail manager…the employees who stand around, chit-chating, texting or otherwise wasting time deserve snark. In fact, when I was in charge, it was par for the course…;-)
“Lazy immigrants! Back to work! We’re going to be kicking you out of the country soon, so you’d better . . . uhm . . . work hard . . . now.”
YOU.CRACK.ME.UP :) We are thinking the same things, you are just willing to admit that you think them :)
You’re being featured on Five Star Friday:
http://www.fivestarfriday.com/2008/09/five-star-friday-edition-22.html
Don’t be too hard on yourself. While waiting in the ridiculously long drive thru line for coffee this morning, I contemplated whether it would be possible to fashion some sort of bomb out of two sticks of Juicy Fruit, a tampon, and the two french fries hanging out underneath my seat. Lucky for them they produced my latte before I found the lighter in the glove compartment.
I have lurked on your blog a long time and never commented …
When I lived in Louisiana, those two years I refer to as my “southern-fried era”, I once bought beer at the grocery when a cashier saw fit to ask me, “What do you need that for? You shouldn’t drink.”
She seemed old and, well, Southern, and probably well-meaning, and I was much younger then, so I just blew her off but didn’t raise any hackles about it. Now that I’m older? I probably would’ve gone straight to her manager.
Yep, I’ve become crabby too.
Sophia was always my favorite!
I pride myself on being a pretty nice person but we all have our days. Just yesterday I was reminded of the fact that I’ve had them–one of my students said to me, “You live in my neighborhood! A few years ago you yelled and cursed at me because your dog got out and I let him go after catching him for you!” Um yeah, it was an awkward moment…
You say snark like it’s a bad thing.
Ok I’m in Texas…
PLEASE don’t use Palin references and those of us unfortunate to be derailed in Texas IN THE SAME SENTENCE!!!
I can only hope she passes the mickey to McCain per Roves instructions, gets busted and puts us all out of our misery…………………..
in the wise words of jean-paul sartre, “l’enfer, c’est les autres” or hell is other people…
Really? I like being more Sophia than Rose. Though I could really use a little Blanche. *wink wink*
Uhm this: I miss the days when I was more Rose than Sophia. is the funniest sentence I have heard in weeks. Well done, indeed.