The soccer mom on her cell phone
You’re busy. You have to take little Jessie to his game this afternoon. Then you have a hair appointment. And you can’t meet up with your BFF Katie tonight because the hubbie is coming home early from work to take you and the kids out to Pizza Hut. How do I know all this? Because you’ve done nothing but walk around the store for the last half hour with that darn cell phone glued to your ear, and you’ve made sure everybody and their brother has heard every word of your conversation. If you’re so busy, hang up the phone and get done with your shopping. And get a clue.
Anyone blocking up the aisles
Maybe it’s the “cute” couple that has decided each of them needs their own separate cart because it’s adorable. Or maybe it’s the family that has decided to bring all 20 of their kids to the store with them. And the kids are lined up across every, single aisle. And they have Popsicle stains on their shirts and slobber running down their noises. Whatever or whoever you are, you’re taking up too much space. To live. Okay, maybe that’s harsh. But it doesn’t feel like it right now when you’ve decided you own Aisle 7 and no one else can get to the toilet paper because you’ve decided to camp there.
Anyone who spends more than 5 seconds staring at a particular item
This is related to the one before. Know what you want before you get to the store. Pick it up off the shelf. Drop it in your cart. Then move onto the next item. You don’t need to spend all day trying to make up your mind whether you want the light red kidney beans or the dark red kidney beans. They’re friggin’ kidney beans. Pick one. Move on. Other people need kidney beans, too. Hmm. Wonder which ones to pick?
The two old ladies catching up on their gossip
I don’t need to know about your grand kids. And I definitely don’t need you two to tell each other every little personal story about your families going back to the Truman administration. Why? Because while catching up, you two have parked your carts in the middle of the aisle so no one else can get around you. Move it to the sides of the store. Maybe the deli area. At least you’d be out of the rest of everyone else’s way.
The family buying $400 worth of groceries at 3 a.m.
I’ve just got off work. I only stopped in to pick up something for a very late dinner and maybe a 2 liter of Diet Coke for the wife. There’s no one else in the store but you idiots and me. And despite the fact I’m only getting two items and you’re getting 6,000 items spilled over into ten carts, you will still get to the register before me. And I’ll have to wait. And wait. And wait. By the time you’re checked out, the sun is up and it’s almost time for me to go back to work. I know you work nights, too, but do your major shopping during the day when the store has more than one lane open. And no, I won’t say “please.”
The chatty checkout clerk
I don’t know you. You don’t know me. I don’t want to know about your ex-boyfriend and how he got arrested for beating up your mother’s sister’s cousin’s fiance. I don’t need to know what you think about the state of the economy, the president, the war in whatever country we’re in war at right now. I just want you to ring me up and let me be on the way. You don’t have to be entirely silent. I understand common courtesy, but I’m not here for a chat room.
The disabled person in the electric cart who thinks they own the store
I get it. Really, I do. I got out of the hospital a few years ago and had to use one of those carts myself for a couple of months. But that didn’t give me the right to bump into everybody then look at them as if they’re being insensitive. You’re in a gigantic cart running down aisles not built for such a wide vehicle. Get used to it. Other people have their own troubles. No one really gives a damn that your leg is broken or whatever. You have no excuse to be rude to those of us able to walk at the moment.
Anyone who flies around corners with their shopping cart
Other people are using the store, too. Take it easy. Take it slow. Look where you’re going. This isn’t the Indy Shopaholic 500. Bump me one more time and I might make you wear that bowl of salad in the bottom of your cart.
The 40 construction workers who all decide to eat from the deli at the same time
I realize you guys are busy and you’re probably tired. But each and every one of you has a cell phone strapped to your belt. Couldn’t just one of you, maybe even a foreman, have called ahead and had the order ready to go? No? Okay. Well, I guess I’ll just stand here until the end of your shift so I can finally get that half-pound of roasted turkey I wanted.
The person who grabs a cart then comes to a dead stop right in front of the store entrance
I know you need to get out your grocery list. I know you need to glance around to see which aisle has the canned yams. I also know you’re an idiot. There are other people behind you. We are at the store for a reason. To get in. To buy stuff. And to talk on the cell phone and chat with our old lady neighbor from next door who we see all the time anyway. Move it!