That Awkward Moment When You Want To Maim Someone and Buy a Hat Instead

Remember that time you were invited to a Derby themed bridal shower and you went to print out the gift card from their online registry and found that your hamburger-humper of a brother had used all of the ink in your printer and you didn’t have any choice but to break your vow about never going in a store that ended in “Mart” unless it was to burn it down to buy ink and then have your patience severely tested by a total fucking asshole?

Oh wait, no that was me.

My mother and I had a bridal shower to attend yesterday morning and in true Kat fashion I waited until the last minute to get our gift. In my defense I’m busy as a motherfuck and it also should have been very simple since the couple had only registered for gifts for their honeymoon so it was only supposed to be placing an order online and printing the gift receipt to put in a card.

(Don’t try to fathom this kind of registry–it belongs in a world where bridal showers have themes and the hors d’heurves are lobster tails and I feel like friggin’ E.T. whenever I visit.)

But of course nothing is ever that easy and so I discovered at 8am on a Sunday morning when no stores are open that I was out of ink. The shower was at 11am so I had to go to the one place that was open: K-Mart. My only hope was that most of the morons of the world would still be asleep.

HA!

After nearly being hit in the parking lot by a jackass driving across the parking space to beat me to a parking spot, I made it into the store. I grabbed my ink and was making my way to the check-out when I passed the accessories section. We had been informed on the shower invitation to wear “our fanciest Derby hats” and even though I was originally going to be a brat and wear my Wonder Woman baseball hat, I decided to play nice and grabbed a hat for my mother and me.

There was only one register opened and already three people waiting when I reached the check-out but luckily the first two people moved quickly. And then came the third person. I knew he was going to be an asshole when he dumped a pocketful of change on the counter as the cashier scanned his item.

“6.40 please,” she told him.fucking angry

The fuckface gestured at the pile of change. “Count it out,” he grunted.

The poor girl sorted the pile and informed him that he needed another two dollars so he pulled out a crumpled dollar bill and another pile of change that she was forced to count.

“You still need fifteen cents,” she said meekly. She sounded so sorry that I wanted to slam the guy’s head on the counter for making the girl feel so uncomfortable besides wasting my time.

The guy rummaged around in his shorts for a few moments and then shrugged. “I gotta run back to my crib and get some more,” he finally told her.

My first thought was that there are approximately twenty-two and a half feet of intestine in a human being so if I yanked his out through his nostril I would have more than enough to strangle him with it, but then I thought of the girl at the register and how she would have to void his sale and then have to go through this again when the asshole came back.

“Here!” I finally snapped digging in my bag and producing a quarter.

The girl gave me a grateful look while the motherfucking douchebag asswipe who I had just helped walked away with his bag and didn’t even look at me much less say thank you.

“You’re a really nice person,” the girl told me smiling as she rang up my two hats.

“No I’m not,” I snarled. “I’m a bitch and I’m going to run him over when I see him in the parking lot.”

The girl laughed.

And I sighed.

It’s impossible to be terrifying when you’re buying two frilly Derby hats.

***

Three quick things:
I sound like a broken record but I’m still crazy busy, in fact I’m covering at my “part time” job and working doubles. The good news though is that kickassness is happening, but I’m waiting because it warrants a post of its own. Stay tuned for awesomeness that will probably include putting a Wonder Woman crown on my dog.

wonder woman, eskimo dog, wonder eskimo

 

You Might Be a Dick If

There are a lot of warning signs that someone might be a dick, but today I’m going to focus on the warning signs regarding cell phones that I’ve encountered while at my day job. Let’s begin.turn off your fucking cell phone sign

  • If I’m asking you how many hours a day you wear your contacts and you can’t even look up from texting on your phone to give me the dickish answer “all day”–this is another rant entirely–then you might be a dick.
  • If I’ve called your name to take you back to the doctor and you hold a finger up in a “one minute gesture” and continue your texting and/or cell phone conversation, then you might be a dick.
  • If I admit that a lot of medical machines are not affected by cell phones but that the one that I’m about to use on you is indeed affected by cell phones and ask that you please turn off your cell phone and in response you give me a “yeah right” look, then you might be a dick.
  • If I’m using the machine which is affected by cell phones and the screen is jumping all over the place and I then find out that it’s because you were getting texts after having not turned off your cell phone despite my asking, then you might be a dick.
  • If I’m teaching you to put in your contacts and you touch your phone not once, but twice, to answer a text and make me make you wash your hands again (cell phones are one of the most disgusting filthy appliances in the world so you do not want to touch them and then touch your eye), then you might be a dick.

I’ll admit that I’m being a little snarky here, so I’ll finish by clarifying that there is no “might” about it. If you do any of these things, then you sir (or madam) are, in fact, a dick.

TURN OFF YOUR FUCKING CELL PHONE OR I WILL MAKE YOU EAT IT!

In other news, my newest piece at The Indie Chicks went up on Monday.  “The Skinny on the 7 Day Detox Diet” is up, so check that out for want a breakdown (and an update) on what it’s really like to do the detox without all of the flowery, magical (aka bullshit) phrases that diet sites use to describe it.