HUMOR
Fist Fight in Aisle Eight! Manager Assistance Needed!
None of this, not a whit, was my fault
I went out to grocery shop before 7:00 this morning. I was already in a foul mood because, duh, Tuesday, which is a really stupid word and look how it is spelled! Anyway, I was cold and angry when I pulled into a parking space at the store.
As any intelligent person would do, I had my list ready. Bread was prominent because, well, staff of life, and also because we want the Whole Wheat Whole Grain in the sandwich size; the one with the green label, not the cheap smaller one in the stupid red bag. Everybody with half a brain wants that bread and the idiots at Hannaford never make enough of it, so you have to get there early to have a chance. Yet another reason to be in a pissah bad mood.
I grabbed a cart and headed for the bread aisle. Wouldn’t you know it, the delivery guy is there with his racks of bread that he’s unpacking to put on the shelves.
He had the damn aisle blocked!
Aaargh! Apparently, a little hustle to get this stuff done before the customers get there is too difficult for this jabroni. Cripes, it’s bread! It’s light, it’s not like you’ll get worn out putting it on the shelf. Sheesh!
