Smutty Stash

A man came to my cash. I rang in his groceries and then I asked him how he would like to pay. He pulled out a twenty dollar bill, but instead of just handing it to me, he shoved it in his gob as he rummaged through his wallet looking for his Airmiles.

“Sir, no! Please don’t put the money in your mouth!” I implored. “If you knew how many germs are on that you wouldn’t do it. That’s how you can get the flu.”

I didn’t really care if he got the flu or not, I just needed to say something to let him know I wasn’t happy about his awful decision.

Disgust boroughed deep into my brain like a gnat. I didn’t want to touch that plagued spittle money. I hoped it would ignite and disintegrate. Damn, I need some super powers.

The customer behind him chimed in, “yeah man, that’s kind of gross.”

He takes the bill out of his drooly mouth and hands it to me.

I wanted to gag. I got the heebie-geebies as I tried to handle the bill from the non-wet area. My lips curled up on the sides with disgust as I shoved the twenty dollars into the till. “Thanks.” (Which really means, fuck you).

I wanted to throw bleach inside the cash register.

Later on, one of the staff members who works in the Deli approached the cash to pay for some chicken wings. She pulled some bills out of her bra.

“Ew, I don’t want your sweaty boob money,” I sneered. “Are you kidding me? That’s nasty.”

She laughed. “Well, I don’t have a wallet I have nowhere else to put it.”

My lip formed a point at one side. I carefully pinched the money only using my fingertips and I dropped it into the proper cash slot.

Jesus, what’s next? Stinky armpit money? Hairy balls money? Snatch change?

And folks wonder why I wear gloves at work.

~GW

I Loathe Salad

Hello, fine people. Happy Labour Day!

I have to admit, I am jealous of people who can eat an entire pizza and not gain a pound. No, let me rephrase that. It angers me. Dammit, it’s unfair. All I have to do is look at a pizza and I turn into Jabba The Hutt. When it’s pizza day at work, I just silently snort in the aroma of the passing deliciousness and then place the boxes in other people’s carts.

Some of my co-workers go on their breaks and buy Mountain Dew, chocolate bars, pizza and cupcakes. I admit it, I’m envious. They gorge on that shit like there’s no tomorrow. They’re as skinny as a rake and there’s no leaves to gather. It seems so unfair. It’s diabolical.

I only eat food that you can pick, pluck or shoot, and I still feel like a fairy elephant.

I don’t need a personal trainer as much as I just need somebody to follow me around to slap the unhealthy food out of my hand.

I want to work out, but then I don’t want to work out even more.

Experts say that refined sugar is like heroin. It awakens certain pleasure centers in the brain and makes you addicted. I just try to avoid it. Now I know why they call it junk food, because it turns you into an acne scarred, whale blubbering junkie.

I’ve lost thirty-five pounds thus far, so I must be doing something right. It’s just that..well, it feels like it’s taking an eternity to reach my goal. Two pounds a week is what doctor’s claim is a healthy weight loss. I don’t want to send my body into hyper-drive distress by losing far too much at once, and then end up shedding all my hair like Yul Brynner, but dayammm!

If I can’t stick to a diet, does that make me a desserter? Ha!

Why does sugar, fat and salt have to taste so good? Take Lay’s chips, for example. They come in a new onion ring flavour. I know it’s all chemicals with shit loads of artificial cancer causing ingredients, but it still brings forth a surge of excitement. I won’t eat them, mind you. God no, I don’t want to go back to my old physique. I just ask other people who buy them in line how delicious they are.

Fuck…

My nutritionist told me to eat about 1,200 calories a day. I said, “okay, so how many do I eat at night?”

Anyhoo, I suppose my health is more important. My blood pressure did return to normal, I’m not on any medications and have no issues. Knock on wood. Plus, I’m able to fit into many of my ultra cute outfits again. I really shouldn’t complain. I guess weight loss is just a waiting game.

~GW

Frenemy

I’m standing at customer service ringing through a customer’s groceries when I notice a woman in line staring at my name tag.

I stare intently back at her letting her know that she’s burning a stare-hole into my shirt.

Then I noticed something else, her teeth. Oh my God, I know those hell hound fangs. I know this chick, it’s Emma. Honestly, it’s the only way I recognized her because her appearance changed a lot.

I guess it’s inevitable. It’s a small world. I work in a local area and I sell food in a supermarket.

Her hair looked different, a little more blonde. Obviously a dye job. This girl and I were friends for many years, until the day she abandoned me as my divorce – as she claimed – made me not as upbeat as she desired.

Damn, I hadn’t seen her in twenty-three years. I thought, why is the universe sticking her on my doorstep now? Dammit, she’s not somebody I ever wanted to see or hear from again. I really regret the time I invested and wasted with her.

We used to work together too, and at the lowest time in my life, this twit dumped me like she just gorged on a fiery vat of spicy chili dogs.

She looked old and haggard, her youthful glow snuffed out. A little more wrinkly, but of course a couple of decades have passed. I have aged a bit too but in comparison I have to say I look like a beautiful goddess.

I remained polite but felt a little uncomfortable. I’m not going to lie, she really freakin’ hurt me years ago. Oh, how I would have loved to ream her out for being such a huge fucking Judas, but I remained calm.

Like a God damned plunger, she brought up old shit in my mind.

I felt triggered. I didn’t have a lengthy conversation with her, I never asked any questions. I felt no desire to care about anything she might have to say. Deep down I just hoped her life was a giant ball of scat. Maybe it is, I don’t think you get very far in life when you treat your friends like absolute puss-inflicted knicker defecation.

“I know you,” I uttered. “You’re Emma.”

“I know you too,” she sneered.

I rang in her purchases and she paid for them. I felt caught off guard and I don’t even remember what she bought, just that she paid by cash. Not that it matters one iota anyway.

Emma shook like a shaky bitch when she realized I recognized her. I’m not sure if she just became super nervous or if she suffered from Parkinson’s.

Deep down, I hoped for the latter~

Karma, cuntasaur!

The Inconsequential Employee

This has been really bothering me lately…

The worst feeling in the world is being ignored. Now mind you, I know that being a cashier may not be the most glamerous occupation in the world, but it doesn’t mean I’m not educated. It doesn’t mean I’m stupid, either.

I’m sorry that my career choice is beneath some people who can’t even find it within themselves to treat me like a human being.

I mean seriously, when I ask a question why do some customers just stand there and act like I don’t exist? Like I’m invisible? Like they can’t hear me?

Ghosted…

I must be such a hinderance to them. How dare I ask them a question about how they are going to pay for their processed crap.

Either I just get completely ignored by these folks, or they’re on their damn phone yapping with somebody about rubbish I don’t want to hear, completely unaware of anything else around them. I ask if they have Airmiles, then they look at me with an irritated glare as if I’m interupting their phone call. They attempt to dehumanize me and that is wrong and ignorant.

Sigh…

It makes the world an ugly place. It’s extemely rude. I’m standing on my feet serving people for eight hours a day. What happened to manners? I’m dedicating my time to people who treat me like absolute shit.

Sometimes I dream about snatching the telephone off their neck and smashing it to the floor like Hulk Hogan, but alas, that is just a fantasy.

It’s often times like this I wish we had self-checkout at our store, so they could take their bad attitude and crappy personality with them.

Life is difficult enough. I am a pleasant person. I work extremely hard and don’t want to have to deal with jackasses every day. Unfortunately, they seem to congregate in herds.

It makes me want to squish their bread.

Don’t make me ram my thumb into your Dempsters.

~GW

Some Foods I Dig At The Supermarket

We sell over 46,000 products, but I will just mention a few that are to die for.

Yes…look at it. Gaze upon its splendor~

Portuguese flat chicken.

The first time I tried it, I couldn’t believe how amazing it tastes. Hats off to the Portuguese, that’s all I can say. I literally couldn’t stop eating it and said out loud, “where have you been all my life?” Okay, so it wasn’t a very happy end for the chicken, but if God didn’t want us to eat meat why did he make it taste so freakin’ delicious? You purchase it in a package, the chicken is already flattened like it was squashed by a run away train. You stick it on a pan and bake it at 375 degrees for 45 minutes. That’s it!

Easy peasy, stick it in my gob. Rip it apart and eat it like a slob. 😀

Then~

There’s a new grape on the market called, Sweet Sapphires. They are seedless, dark on the outside and green on the inside. Sure, they’re genetically modified, but they taste so delicious. I can’t even begin to tell you how amazing the flavour is. I must warn you though, it’s like getting addicted to crack cocaine. Once you bite into the crunchy finger shaped tubes of goodness, there’s no going back. Your brain goes into a mind-bending blur, your mouth drools like Homer Simpson, and before you know it they’re gone. You’ll be hooked for life.

Lastly~

Organic navel oranges.

They MUST BE organic because the flavour is different. They are out of this world in taste. Sure they are more expensive, but they are worth it. They transport me to a different place when I eat them. Lip smackin’ ecstasy.

And now for a public service announcement~

Many bottled waters come from the tap. Yes, you heard me right, it’s true.

Water companies like to promote their products alongside images of natural springs and ice-topped mountains, but many of them are simply elaborately filtered from the tap. Products previously implicated include Coca-Cola’s Dasani and PepsiCo’s Aquafina.

So before you start dishing out your hard earned cash thinking you’re keeping your pineal gland free of calcium and fluoride, think again. You’ve been duped. Turtles in the oceans everywhere are getting plastic up their asses for nothing.

Are there any foods you love from the grocery store? Let me know about it.

~GW

Killers

What is the underlying factor?

Those mass murders that you hear about in certain parts of the world have been a topic of great discussion. Everyone wonders what causes psychotic episodes possessing certain individuals to do such horrific things. Some people say it’s mental illness, drugs or lack of drugs. A few will state that perhaps bullying played a roll in their behaviour. Many may even believe they are just evil boofheads who have no regard for life.

I’ll tell you right now what the trigger is for someone to become a homicidal maniac.

It happens because you can’t open the fucking produce bags in the supermarket!

You massage your finger and thumb along the top of the bag, over to the corners, and then you blow on it trying to separate the plastic. You turn it over thinking you have the wrong side, and it still won’t god damn open. Flipping it back over again you realize it wasn’t the wrong side after all. Repeating this process over and over again, a massive clot begins to form in your cranium and it quickly eats into your brain’s grey matter like a hungry alien on steroids. Your face turns bright red and the veins on your forehead bulge outward into massive elephant man sized lumps of anger and frustration. Losing it, you scream…………”COME ONNNNNNN! You ^%$$# piece of $%(^$%!”

The damn bag still won’t freakin’ open!

It makes you want to kill everyone around you. And that, folks, is what causes privileged white imbeciles wearing questionable polyester fashion to grab an illegal AK-47 and blow shit up.

Sad. All they want is a cucumber.

~The world may never know. But now you do.~