Sometimes I Fracking Hate People
February 8th, 2010
Hate can be a strong word, but as you are about to see, sometimes it is the only word that fits.
Not “annoyed by”, not irritated, I am talking full on, no holds barred, HATE.
If nothing else, this will explain why I am truly The ANGRY Jew.
So, my plan for Super Bowl Sunday was simple enough. I had gone out, had my Sunday Breakfast and read my paper. All I had to do was gather my stuff, hit the coffee shop, pick up a few things at the grocery store and then drive over to Kwazy Kate’s palce for the game.
Simple, right?
I made it to my first stop, my local MegloCoffee. I know, I have railed on this place for years, but it is nothing if not convenient . To my surprise, there was only a small group in front of me in line. Usually the place is a mob scene. Anyway their was an older couple with an 8 year old Asian girl. I frittered away a few minutes running several scenarios of the group dynamic, some humorously obscene, and finaly decided it was Grandma and Grandpa taking their adopted granddaughter out for a treat.
Little did I know I had become trapped behind Mr Indecisive.
As Grandpa reached the head of the line Grandma and the tyke took a table to wait. Apparently Mr Indecisive had never ordered coffee before.
“Hon, do you want low fat of non-fat?”
“Hon, do we want grande or tall?”
“Hon, do you want chocolate chip or double chocolate?”
All this was yelled into my face as Grandma and the youngling had taken a table directly behind me.
Well Mr Indecisive finally got his drink order just the way he wanted when he asked the Barista, “Now, what do you have to eat?”
“Oh Fuck This” I muttered none to quietly as I headed for the exit, earning me a pained smile from the barista and a startled look from Mr Indecisive.
I headed a few blocks down the road to a local chain coffee shop.
Not a lot of cars in the lot, not a lot of people inside, looks good.
HAHA, so you might think.
This time I get stuck behind Mr Information. He apparently had to know the exact molecular configuration of a “Berry Berry Smoothie” before placing his order. Finally he moved on and it was my turn to place my order, a vanilla latte. How hard should that be?
Well it might be easier if the two snarky barista’s were not peeved at their boss for denying them the opportunity to attend some “awesome” Super Bowl Party, an offense that they went on and on and on about at the expense of making my coffee.
I tried the polite “Um, Hello, customer waiting” cough to get them on the right track.
No response.
So then I tried a quiet “Excuse me”.
It was like I was not there.
So I pulled out the “Pardon me while I cough up a Smurf on your counter” cough.
Works every time.
With my drink in hand, I headed out for the Drive To Kwazy Kate’s.
I am really starting to love the drive out to her place. It was a beautiful day, lots of blue sky, driving through rural Oregon farm land. Very peaceful and relaxing. Right up until I got stuck behind everybody’s favorite driver, Mr. Law Enforcement.
You know the guy, the one who feels it his job to ensure that no speeding takes place by driving 45 in a 55 on a one lane road where passing is forbidden.
Still and all, it is a beautiful day and I have plenty of time before I have to be a Kate’s. I take a sip of my coffee and start cursing as the bitch in the coffee shop has given me hazelnut instead of vanilla.
Deep Breath…Beautiful Day…Fun With Kate and the boys…Oregon has a death penalty…my calm is restored.
I get to the turn off, Mr Law Enforcment goes left, I go right, and I make it to Kate’s little town without further incident. A quick stop to make at the grocery store and I am home free.
The store is not to crowded, I quickly grab my three items and drop into the express line, where I promptly get stuck behind Miss New Age Parent.
Miss New Age Parent is attempting to “open a dialog” with her brat of a four year old who has become peevish because mommy wont allow him to have one of every candy item in the check out line. He voices his displeasure with the situation by screaming at a volume that causes the dog tied up outside the entrance of the store to explode. She continues to attempt to “reason” with him. I can not resist, I have been through too much already.
“So” I inquire, “How is that new age parent thing working out for ya?”
Mom looks daggers at me, the checker giggles, the child continues to scream, causing the bag boys ears to begin to bleed.
I continue.
“I hear sometimes an open handed swat on the ass works wonders.”
Mom pays for her groceries and leaves somewhere between a huff and a snit.
My day is now complete.
I make it to Kate’s without having to deal with any of the sub species of vermin who populate our planet, calm, relaxed and secure in the knowledge that about 75% of the people out there just plain SUCK.


