Crossing the line

Hey there it's me again, Mix Tape Girl. I actually had a fun time posting last time so I'll do one more. Besides A.D. is too busy watching Die Hard on HBO to type anything. "They're playing a Christmas movie," he says. Yeah guys shooting each other up during Christmas time, sure gets me into the spirit of the season. Okay, so I like it sometimes but not today. Though the whole manly rampage thing would have worked wonders today at the store.

So here's what happened. I went to the store after work to pick up a few things. I took my time, browsing, grabbing this and that. (Hey I had coupons, that aren't going to use themselves. See the perfect excuse to buy that new shampoo I've seen, with a dollar off coupon.) But I surprised myself I only used a hand basket and not a shopping cart.

Anyways, I browsed around, making my way to the register. Now every place that I've been to, even with people in front of you, I've always just put my goodies on the conveyor belt. Today was no exception. The lady in front of me had just finished putting her goods on the checkout belt. No biggie. There was more than enough room for me to put my few goods on the belt too. Reaching over to grab the ever so useful separator stick, the woman in front of me interrupted me.

Evil Woman: "Excuse me. You don't put your things down till I'm checked out."

Me: (Thinking.... pardon my language. WTF did you just say? But in being stunned by reality saying...) Huh?

Evil Woman: "Your things. Do not put them down until I'm checked out. I don't want your things touching mine." (This being said in a most discourteous manner.)

Having had one of those days, I'm thinking. "Oh no bitch. Not today." (Pardon my language again, but I'm really miffed.)

Now I understand wanting to keep your goods separate. When I go to the store and put my things on the checkout belt, the last thing I want is for another persons peasant goods to be touching my caviar, capers, and....just kidding, in honesty its more like, pads, shampoo, discount hair scrunchies from the fifty off bin, Hershey dark chocolate almond bar, and few cans of spaghetti sauce and noodles, and my Lean Cuisines for lunch at work. But seriously I know that feeling of private personal property of someone touching your stuff even before you buy it. Which is why I'm a huge believer in the separator stick. That last thing you want is my Cheetos chatting it up with someone else's Jimmy Dean sausage log.

But things will touch eventually. No big deal. Well not to this lady. She was adamant that I take my things off. She was getting ready to grab my stuff and start putting them into my hand basket again. Cutting her off before she could, I slapped the separator stick down between our things. And putting on my best Jane Austen genteel attitude and forced smile, instead of the raging wolverine that was ready to rip this crazed womans' head off, I inform her.

Me: "I'm putting this separator stick down between our goods, so they don't touch. That shouldn't be a problem, SHOULD IT?" While giving my stare that says, "Know what I think of you? Nothing. I freaking own you. Bring it bitch."

The woman scoffed and turned away, the cashier already scanning her things. The people behind me where ready to jump this lady if I didn't. Some muttering some things in Spanish that even I'd rather not say towards her. But the power of the separator stick held true. Providing the "Don't pass over line", that can fend off the wars of the grocery store.

So after getting all done, I promptly ate my Hershey's bar which I so needed after that. Though I saved half to drink with some wine later in the evening.