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Thursday, September 8, 2011

Gtfo with your chat-n-cut.

I officially started school this week (classes started last week, but we were on vacation), and yesterday was my second day. I have a 40-minute break between classes early in the afternoon, so I went to the cafe on campus for some lunch. Two lines lead to the register, and I was in the line on the right. A girl in the line on the left spotted a friend of her's directly in front of me, and came over to chat with her. She stood in front of me chatting with her friend, showing off her broken sandal and talking about how she almost wore the same shirt, omg!

I saw what she was doing. I had just seen this in an episode of "Curb Your Enthusiasm".

Bitch was pulling a chat-n-cut!!

I was irritated, naturally. I thought to myself, What would Larry David do? But Larry David has cojones; I do not. So I just stood there, irritated, saying nothing. But then I realized what was about to happen: I was about to let this girl get away with cutting me in line. I was going to go home and bitch to Fiance about it, and he was going to say, "You should have said something." So I leaned in and said, "Just so you know, I appreciate you cutting me."

She looked at me in shock for a moment, then proceeded to explain that she was not in line, she was just talking to her friend. She backed off a couple of inches and continued chatting, but slowly made her way to stand behind me in line. Not in line, my ass.

What an adrenaline rush! Whew...but it makes me think of something that occurred this past Saturday night, while we were still out of town. We spent the weekend in Wilmington, North Carolina, and after hitting the beach during the day, Fiance and I went to dinner with his friends, a married couple that he knew from high school. We ate at a seafood restaurant, and towards the end of the meal became distracted by a boisterous group behind us. One was bragging about an incident during his ROTC days, when he showed up for a meeting with a general with his uniform deliberately in disarray. Then another guy at the table, some obnoxious rich kid, began comparing service members to ball scratchers.

I saw red.

I walked off to have a cigarette and cool down, but I was only becoming more and more angry. I wanted to march up to that asshole and shove my lit cigarette in his eyeball. I went back to the table, and fumed some more. We left without saying a word to that group, though I did openly glare at them for a minute.

I wish now I had said something. Fiance wishes he had, too. Sigh.

1 comment:

Leslie said...

Perhaps we deactivate the draft and take only assholes like that guy. Maybe that would set him straight?