You know what I hate? Stupid pointless meaningless conversations with people you see, that you barely know, while you're trying to do something productive.
It always happens when you're in a slight hurry too.
You run to Wal-Mart on a Friday night because they have cheap beer, and while you're carrying 3 cases up to the front, someone you once saw in High School bumps into you and starts spilling thier life story. Do you care? No. Do they care? No. But there you sit, cardboard handles cutting off circulation to your fingers. Blabbing about how it's been forever since you last saw someone you never had a real conversation with anyways.
Then 3 minutes later, after having said absolutely nothing, you're on your way to the checkout again.
You get in line, and there's 3 people with 2 carts each, in the only lane open in a store with 30 fucking checkout lanes. If you're only ever going to have 3 lanes open at any given time, then don't mother fucking install 30 of the damn things.
And what's the fucking point of installing the self-checkout lanes if they get closed down... isn't the entire fucking point to make it automated?
But no, the self-checkouts are closed, you're behind 8 carts, and then a lane opens up next to you, and what happens? That dolt with 3 carts that was just walking down the aisle, slides into it, and your fucked anyways. And the four ankle biters with her just crawl around the carts like it's a fucking jungle gym.
So now you're standing there with beer that you're not going to drink in a line that's impossibly long, thinking about a conversation you just had with some random idiot, and then it hits you: You have to pee. In your drunkenness and hurry to get back to the small gathering of friends, you forgot that you had broken the seal about 47 minutes before, leaving your bladder to fill itself to capacity every 5 minutes, which means you're now 23 minutes overfilled.
You start doing the drunken pee dance, which is alot like the regular pee dance, only off rhythm and filled with an alcoholic aroma.
Then you get bored with typing and realize that none of it matters anyways.
It always happens when you're in a slight hurry too.
You run to Wal-Mart on a Friday night because they have cheap beer, and while you're carrying 3 cases up to the front, someone you once saw in High School bumps into you and starts spilling thier life story. Do you care? No. Do they care? No. But there you sit, cardboard handles cutting off circulation to your fingers. Blabbing about how it's been forever since you last saw someone you never had a real conversation with anyways.
Then 3 minutes later, after having said absolutely nothing, you're on your way to the checkout again.
You get in line, and there's 3 people with 2 carts each, in the only lane open in a store with 30 fucking checkout lanes. If you're only ever going to have 3 lanes open at any given time, then don't mother fucking install 30 of the damn things.
And what's the fucking point of installing the self-checkout lanes if they get closed down... isn't the entire fucking point to make it automated?
But no, the self-checkouts are closed, you're behind 8 carts, and then a lane opens up next to you, and what happens? That dolt with 3 carts that was just walking down the aisle, slides into it, and your fucked anyways. And the four ankle biters with her just crawl around the carts like it's a fucking jungle gym.
So now you're standing there with beer that you're not going to drink in a line that's impossibly long, thinking about a conversation you just had with some random idiot, and then it hits you: You have to pee. In your drunkenness and hurry to get back to the small gathering of friends, you forgot that you had broken the seal about 47 minutes before, leaving your bladder to fill itself to capacity every 5 minutes, which means you're now 23 minutes overfilled.
You start doing the drunken pee dance, which is alot like the regular pee dance, only off rhythm and filled with an alcoholic aroma.
Then you get bored with typing and realize that none of it matters anyways.