Slack Jawed, Mouth Breathing Morons

Dunkin Donuts and Walmart. These were the two stops I had to make yesterday before I went home.

After I got the kids from school I had some errands to run. Before we hit Walmart I decided I needed coffee so I pulled into a Dunkin Donuts (a chain of coffee shops) and waited in line. The car ahead of me seemed to be taking a long time with their order so I rolled down the window to get some air. Within five seconds of listening to the dialogue from the car ahead it was apparent that even after waiting in line for five minutes this person still had not make up their mind...now this is a pet peeve of min and is sure way to make me want to beat myself senseless out of frustration.

I could not help but ask myself. "Was this person asking about the specials? "Were they making inquiries about whether the chef had made any recent additions to the menu?" "Were they seeking advice as to which wine goes best with a blueberry donut?" This back and forth lasted for about two minutes...I could not imagine what was taking this person so long...I started to think about beating someone senseless other than myself. So rather than do something that would have felt oh so good, I pulled out of line, parked, and went in. I placed my order;

TP: "I would like a medium regular."

Cashier: (a young woman with the look of a slow, dull child) "a whaaaaaaa?"

TP: "I would like a medium regular...please."

Cashier: "huhhhhhhhhhhh?"

I was starting to question whether this person was capable of intelligent speech.

TP: in a slow, clear voice. "I would like a medium coffee with cream and two sugars."

Cashier: "we don't have no coffee ready so you have to wait." this was a direct quote.

TP: as the end of my patience. "OK"

So I got my coffee, left the girl a tip, and stalked out of the store and had a sip...coffee...with milk...no sugar. This is freaking coffee shop...all they do is freaking coffee...how could they f**k this up!?!?!?!? I went back in...went to the same cashier...who looked at me and asked "whaaaaa?" I grabbed three sugars and left.

Next stop Walmart.

I hate Walmart. Yes, I am using the word hate here. It's not the same kind of hate I have for say...Hitler...more like the kind of hate I have for lima beans or paper cuts or...well...people who don't know what they want after spending five minutes in a drive through line. I hate Walmart stores, their business strategy, their union busting policies, and what Walmart does to people. What is is about Walmart that causes people, while in their stores, to drop IQ points like flakes of dandruff? MY GOD! I want into the Walmart yesterday to get a trashcan. As I trudged down the aisles looking for trashcans I passed a variety of shoppers; men, women, and old, all with a vacant, slack jawed look, mouths slightly agape, wandering aimlessly about the store. It was like visiting the land of the undead.

I also noticed that at Walmart, there are a preponderance of people in sweatpants. Now...I have no bias against sweatpants....I am wearing a pair now...at my dining room table...in my apartment...in private. To me sweatpants in public says I have surrendered and just don't give a shit anymore. The pairing of flip flops with sweatpants just screams "I have given up and I am waiting to die."

Now...back to my visit to Walmart...as I wandered up and down the aisles I started to loose track of time as I filled my cart with items I never intended to buy when I entered the store; cleaning supplies, plastic containers, batteries...I snapped out of my semi awake state when I realized that there was a bit of drool running down my chin. I was becoming one of the Walmart undead. I spilled my coffee all over myself in my panicked rush to get to the checkout.

Confronted with slack jawed, mouth breathing morons at every turn I had had enough and headed for home. By the time we arrived, the kids were driving me crazy, I was fuming and swearing like a sailor, and I was wet from my coffee spill....we all needed to blow off some steam...so we hit the pool as soon as I got out of my sweatpants.