I have cold feet and a hand gun, any questions?
I shoulda kept my mouth shut.
This evening I'm suffering from chilled, crunchy ice feelin, feet and I hate having chilled feet. My feet prefer earth sandals and warm rays of sunshine gently caressing them. They do not like being two blocks of flaky, frostbitten, flesh hanging off the end of alligator hide calves.
Flaky, frostbitten feet put me in a bitchy mood, ask the two old geisers who were in front of me in the line at Hayes supermarket where I stopped after I got off work to dash in for a couple of things. They had a smidgen of stuff in their basket and were already being checked out and were in the express lane so what would you think? Less than 10 items, express line, being checked already, hell, I'll be out of here in 10 minutes or less.
Wrong. I knew this the first time old geiser number 1 of the pair pushed pass me to go find the eggs they'd forgotten (fast as a speeding turtle too). I wait, cause I'm bitchy but not so bitchy that I would be rude to the old geisers, (yet) and also, the other two lines, which actually had checkers, which weren't express, had numerous folks in them who appeared to think they were going to starve if they didn't buy out the freakin store on a Thursday evening.
Then old geiser number 2 pushes past to find another forgotten item (OG number 1 hasn't even returned yet mind you) and it was then that bitch opened her mouth, you know, the bitchy one who previously was not rude to old geisers.
"Holy Shit! You mean they're not done shopping yet????"
This retort caused the express lane checker to grab the phone and yell for more checkers and 20 minutes later I was finally out of there. Those 2 old geisers weren't though. They might have been back there in the meat department having them pluck chickens or something by then, who knows?
I finally arrived home in time to tote in the grocery bags, throw some sandwich fixins on the table, and help the Terrorist study for some tests he has tomorrow.
And my feet are still chilly!