Monday, December 17, 2007
I Fight The Smaller Battle
Since moving here I’ve mentioned several times that I love the area but I don’t like the people because the rudeness is shocking. And yes, you will find rude people no matter where you go but remember that I’ve lived in a lot of different places and this town takes the cake. Long before Miss Lucas called them monkeys in a zoo, I did refer to the people in this town as just that...it was like watching the chimps in a zoo exhibit screaming and flinging themselves around the cage. There just is no other way to put it. Seriously, the next time you visit the zoo, go see the monkeys when they are all riled up. Then just imagine some palm trees and an ocean and you have Miami.
I also have made it a point to avoid Wally World for just this reason--regardless of what city you live in, it’s like being trapped inside one of these monkey cages at feeding time. So, last Saturday, when my guy wanted to go to Wal-Mart, I knew it was going to be torture. Wal Mart + Miami = Lord why is it not legal to spray them all down with an AK-47? (It’s a joke, people...don’t get all sensitive.)
Now, my guy, knowing how I feel about these types of people made a deal with me. If I could go through this experience from the time we hit the parking lot to the time we left the parking lot without saying anything to any of these buffoons, I would get something that I wanted. I steeled myself and agreed to this little bet...with an amendment: As long as there was no physical contact, I would do so. The second I was touched physically, the deal was off. He agreed.
And of course, within 5 seconds of hitting the parking lot, the ridiculousness was on. I had to bite my tongue no less than 10 times just while we were looking for parking. In fact, I decided not to say anything at all because I didn’t think I could control myself. So there’s my guy, asking me questions but I’m only nodding or saying, “mmhmm” because I knew that if I allowed myself word one, I would lose control and say something, anything, to relieve the annoyance that was building.
As we approached the store, my guy told me that the last time he was there, he was asked to show his receipt when leaving the store. I have a big issue with this bullshit and ,thankfully, he gets it and does as well. They do not have the right to ask for that unless they have probable cause to think I’ve been stealing. And, if that’s the case, they can call the cops but I do not have to show some fuckwit my receipt as I’m leaving the store for no other reason than to be intruding assholes. They don’t even look at the fucking thing. I can quiz them..."What did I buy?” and they won’t have a clue because they are not looking at it. And, I know my rights. I have the right to walk out of that store without being harassed. Anyway, my guy predicted that this time, because I was with him, he would not be stopped. “They see a guy by himself, they check. They see a couple, they don’t. Profiling.” Probably. Either way, profile me all the hell you want, again, without probable cause, you have no f-en right to detain me. Period.
So...we got in to the store and fought our way past customers to the sports/hunting area where we were promptly ignored by one employee of the store. My guy blew it off while I stared her down, hard. Daring her to look at me. I wasn’t saying anything....but look at me, bitch!
After an item was chosen, we worked our way down other aisles, past cart traffic jams where my guy was being far too pleasant and kind...but I’m keeping my mouth shut aren’t I? Yes, this is great fun! I love this so very fucking much! (Inside my mind I’m screaming, “Move your fucking cart you selfish assholes! You don’t park in the middle of the fucking aisle and act put out when someone else wants to get through...dick! head!") They took their sweet ass time moving their carts to the side in order to allow others to pass, namely my guy who was going along saying, “With your permission” all kindly like until they got one look at my face. They slammed their carts to the sides of the ailes in order to avoid the daggers flying out of my eyes. But, I said nothing. Eventually my guy decided that I had done well and I was allowed to go off when deemed necessary.
Past screaming children we went, through shoving families, around more cart pile ups until eventually we were in the men’s clothing section. It was here that hell broke loose. My guy went over to look at some pieces of clothing and the bitch employee who worked that section got all snitty and stated, “Just when you get things back in place, they come here and mess it all up again.”
Oh. Hell. No.
Now, I didn’t hear this at first. My guy told me as we were walking away. You know what happened next, don’t you? Do you know me at all? Do you honestly think I would leave that alone? Honestly??
First and foremost, I do not tolerate rudeness. I do not allow someone to say such pissy little things towards me and second, I especially do not let them say such pissy little things to people who are with me. I’m very protective whether they need it or not.
I slammed on the brakes, wheeled around and marched right back to that section of clothing where the bitch was still standing. I made a point of pulling down several items to look at them. She barges over, “What size do you need?” I stated, “No thanks, I don’t need any help.” She repeated her question so I ignored her and continued pulling items down, comparing them, turning them over, examining them, what have you. She began to straighten the shelves right in front of me. As in, I was one foot away from the rack of clothing, looking, shopping if you will, and she has shoved half of herself between me and the rack, hands and arms flailing wildly as she straightens the clothing I am currently trying to look at.
I said, “Do you mind?”
She said, “Give me one second.”
No, bitch, I will not give you one second. That’s not how it works. I am the customer. When I’m done, you may come back and sort your little shelves but you do NOT do that shit right in front of me as if I’m a nuisance to you. Don’t like your job? Find another one.
I stopped, looked at her coldly and asked, “What is your name?”
She told me her name in a haughty tone so I dropped what I was looking at on some random shelf, (straighten that up, bitch), walked back to my guy and allowed him to continue with his shopping. When we got to the long ass check out line, I told him that I was going to go complain about that employee bitch. He did not want me to do this, said I should just let it go, it’s a little thing.
Ah, but you see, a lot of people say that and I believe a lot of people are wrong in this line of thinking. People say don’t sweat the small stuff, let it go, it’s not a battle worth fighting but I think it is. You see, it is these little things that build up in to one big, rotting, stank ass cess pool of rudeness that pisses us all off on a daily basis. All those little things are small annoyances that we have decided not to keep in check anymore because “they are little” and yet we go around every single day being treated like shit and then get home, pissed off that we have been treated like shit.
Rudeness is not a small thing. This society is growing more and more angry because of rudeness...it’s not a little issue.
He then added, “Besides, they won’t do anything about it.” Well, I don’t care about that...the point is, I tried.
So off I went to find the store manager. I found her and said that I’ve always known Wal Mart to be a friendly place, (ok, whatever, it’s how they commercialize it anyway), and that I realize it’s a busy time of year but I do not appreciate being made to feel unwelcome, a hindrance when shopping. The store manager groaned and said, “I really hope this isn’t the same person. Please tell me it’s not the same person. What section were you in?” I told her the section and she groaned again, “Yes...sigh, it is the same person. We’ve already talked to her about this...” I said, “She told me her name was Bitchella del Douchebag”. The store manager agreed, “Yes, that’s her name. You are the third person to complain about her for the very same reason. We told her that this will happen in retail. People are shopping and things don’t get put back where they got them from. You are a stalker, that is your job and if they have everything disorganized, you just organize it again after they leave. That’s what you’re paid to do.”
I then demonstrated exactly what Bitchella was doing in front of me and the store manager groaned again. She was pissed. She apologized and said that they were going to sit Miss del Douchebag down again. I said thank you and started to take my leave. As I was leaving I heard her call another store employee over the radio talking about Bitchella del Douchebag.
I practically skipped all the way back to the long ass check out line to meet up with my guy again.
Until some customer hag ran me over with her cart. I looked at her and stated, “Apparently I don’t exist. I must be invisible today.” A couple walking behind her witnessed all of this and started cracking up...delighted in the fact that someone out there does not just take it up the ass like a little bitch by a rude society like so many others do.
I got back in line with my guy, we paid for the items and walked towards the exit of the store. As he stated, because I was there, they did not ask him to produce his receipt at the door. That’s another battle for another day...and “little” as that may be to some, it will be fought as well.
