So this morning started out pretty hectic. A guy was coming over to take photos of the house at 9am, so I had to vacate and figure out something to do for an hour. Most of you know how tied I am to this computer, so it obviously had to be a place that had Wi-Fi. I immediately thought Starbucks, and when he got here right on time at 9, I headed out the door with the laptop. As I headed to the coffee shop, I thought, you know, I could probably do a little running account of my morning at Starbucks, which would be great...but what's even greater is that I could go to the Starbucks at the Price Chopper grocery store, and REALLY get a good base of people watching to report on. And that's what I did. So here it is...a typical hour at the grocery store coffee shop, from a psychopath's perspective.
9:15am: Well first of all I couldn't get started with this blog fast enough. The decision to do this from the Starbucks at the store was brilliant. I figured I'd get a better class of people to talk about and boy was I right. Well then, let's see what's happening. Christmas music is playing here at the store. A couple is sitting here drinking coffee, the woman has a Bible and both are smiling sneakily as if they're planning to start a holy war against non-believers. I'll keep an eye on them.
9:22am: There's a woman here with her toddler in the cart. Not too strange, right? Except the kid is dressed as a giraffe. Not giraffe-themed jammies or something like that...a full on Halloween costume a full month after Halloween ended. I'm guessing this kid screamed and threw a fit until he got to wear the costume, and probably has worn the costume every day since Halloween, because his mother gave up on trying to fight with the little dude every day. Okay, it works for now, but in six years you're going to have an eight-year-old who still sleeps in the bed with you, and just you, because your husband long since divorced you because he got tired of not having sex yet watching his seven-year-old son suck on his wife's breasts more than he does.
9:26am: Something's not right with that couple. I think it's obvious they're having an affair. The Bible is there so they can find passages which makes their lurid undertaking seem more acceptable. I could have told them that there's no place in the Good Book that says, "And God shall reward those 40 year old adulterers with multiple orgasms and the ability to continue without their spouses finding out and slicing off their nuts and/or nipples with a box cutter." That's not in there. But then again, I haven't read the Bible in a while, so maybe the Branch Davidians have an updated version that I just haven't seen yet.
9:35am: I love that they've been paging the Meat Department for five minutes now, yet they could give a shit. The two meat guys are sitting here drinking coffee like they're on strike and the store doesn't know it. "Uh oh", the Starbucks lady just said. Oh, it looks like one-half of the cheater couple left their purse. I'm guessing it's the woman but who knows, if they're having an affair they could be into some kinky shit which involves the man dressing up as Condoleezza Rice. His afro could be used doubly as part of his costume as well as a birth control device. Oh, okay. It was the woman. She came back in to get her purse. She smiled. She shouldn't have. Her teeth are the color of fritos with the jaggedness of Reese Witherspoon's chin.
9:41am: Good God. Three absolute douchebags just walked in. They all have douchebag goatees. Well, one has a beard which looks alright but the others are truly assholes. College dropouts obviously who are planning their next "rave" or whatever it is that college dropouts plan nowadays. Now they're making small talk with the girls behind the counter. No, Slick, you didn't make an impression on her. She forgot about whatever joke you said about Caramel Machiatto sounding like a "sweet musical tempo" the second you paid her. (Okay, he really didn't say that, but I'm on a time crunch and figured it was a lame joke a douchebag would make). Oh Goddammit. They're sitting down in here. Okay, maybe I can pick up some of their real conversation and write it down for you.
9:48am: Apparently they need "Customer assistance in floral". I've always thought that buying flowers at the grocery store is pretty much the same as buying no flowers at all. Douchebags decided to move tables because they were in the sun. You didn't know that when you sat down? The sun hasn't changed in five minutes. After they moved, one said, "Right on." Douchebags.
9:49am: I'm out of coffee. Shit.
9:52am: There goes the customer who needed assistance in floral. She was probably in her 60s and had a helium balloon and some flowers. You've got to wonder why a helium balloon was necessary at 9:50 in the morning. I mean, whatever party or celebration she's going to probably isn't taking place until the evening. And cheap ass grocery store helium doesn't last but a few hours as it is. Not to mention the horribly short life span of grocery store flowers. By the time she gets to the retirement home for Arthur's 92nd birthday party, she's going to have a handful of weeds and a plastic bag.
9:55am: Holy shit. Okay, the douchebags are apparently discussing a business plan that involves telemarketing. The head douchebag just said to one of the littler douchebags: "You're gonna be my guy on the phone. I'm the man." He's explaining how everything they need is already on the internet and as long as they don't take rejection personally they'll make a lot of money. Well, from hearing only 30 seconds of this, I can tell you that unless your business is selling an opportunity to "Smack a Douchebag", this will be a tremendous failure. Well, hold on, let me google that. Well shut my mouth. Looks like according to Business Weekly, Smack a Douchebag may be the next Microsoft. Well, I guess I'M eating crow!
10:00am: Top of the hour features our first 300lb woman in sweatpants. Honestly by now, in a grocery store, I figured we'd have a lot more of them. The foundation only slightly moved.
10:02am: And there goes the first mother who clearly had her child as a result of prostitution. She's got on the hooker boots, the tight, acid-wash jeans, and a sweatshirt that if I could inspect closer I'm sure I would find blood stains. I probably should get up and help her find the antiseptic aisle. Problem is the second I speak to her she'd see the skull cap and my blackness and assume I was a pimp looking to acquire her services. And that would of course include a bitch slap to see how she responds. As well as a slap for her child to assert my authority over her entire family. So I won't help her to the antiseptic aisle.
10:07am: Jesus, these meat department guys don't do anything. One of them just came back over here. Makes me think that grocery store meat really isn't as special as I thought it was. Goddammit. One of the weird employees sat down behind me. He's only talked to me once, but it was about the Bears and he only brought it up because I was wearing a Bears T-shirt and he knew nothing about the Bears. I think he thought I was a single dad who had given up on women and was into weird, gross, Gary Sinise meets Steve Buscemi-type grocery store workers. Christ. He's probably back there staring at me from behind because this is angle he is fantasizing abo...oh he's leaving.
10:14am: Douchebag Update: The head douchebag is explaining the process of "selling shit". "That's the type of business decision I make. We have to be smarter." You insert your own business cliche here. I've determined it's some sort of repair business. AHAHA!!! They just ended, got up and he goes, "Good meeting." You douchebag. Did I mention the head douchebag has a T-shirt and jeans on with a skull cap and sunglasses? Yes, this is the look that I think of when I think business champion.
10:17am: My hour is about up. And thank God because three old ladies just sat down behind me who told the Starbucks worker that they're "going to sit and visit". I could probably sit here another hour and come up with a book with all the material they'd give me. Now although that book would be about the benefit of high-fiber diets and a detailed schedule of every Bingo Night in the Metro and surrounding areas, it'd still be a book.
10:21am: I honestly haven't seen a blind person in years. Years. Yet, there she is. If there's one person on this earth for some reason I don't make fun of, it's the blind. Now the deaf are fair game. Same with the mute. But for some reason the blind make me think back to like the creepy witches or oracles in those movies about the Greek Gods and Perseus. They're always blind but they've got powers that if you mess with them will curse you for life and give you a goat head and a tree stump body. So seeing as I don't want a goat head with a tree stump body, I choose to leave the blind alone. You hear what I'm saying, Marlee Matlin? No...of course you don't.
10:25am: Okay, let's pack this thing up. The coffee is starting to produce the undesired yet expected results on my stomach and I don't really want to use the grocery store toilet. Although grocery store bathrooms are consistently one of your cleanest restrooms around and in a pinch you can feel pretty confident you won't be confronted with feces-stained walls or anti-Semite messages like you do in your average McDonalds restroom. The women behind me are now discussing why they chose to wear jeans today. Done.
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