The worst part of my week has got to be grocery day. I can think of quite a few people who feel the same way about grocery shopping (probably most people hate it with a passion). But, it's not the shopping I hate but the forced interaction with fellow customers that causes my blood to boil.
When I lived in Arizona, the town was smaller and there were good and bad times to go to the store. There were times when there were hardly anyone in the store and you could shop in peace. But here, where the population is huge and basically always on top of each other, there are no good times to go.
The shelves will always be missing something you need no matter what time you are shopping. There will always be some asswipe with a stroller up your ass or rolling over the top of your foot (this happened to my husband this last weekend). There will always be the annoying family who, rather than putting their barely-walking child in the cart, makes them walk and get in EVERYONE'S way while they casually stroll along without a care in the world besides "Rice crispies or cinnamon toast crunch?"
There will always be the aisle-blockers who put their cart on one side and stand right in the way so no one can get past. I usually stand there, clear my throat and stare at them until they really zone out and I have to loudly and sharply say, "Excuse me." And then they turn to me and genuinely look surprised and say, "Oh, I'm sorry!" Then I feel like a rude asshole. But, I also think to myself, "How fucking stupid are these people to completely be oblivious to their surroundings that they can't understand that there are others trying to move in the store?!" It seriously is as if their brains can only hold one thought at a time and all their brainwaves are occupied contemplating brands of shortening and prices.
There's always the token screaming kid and mother, the moron who can't drive the motorized cart so every five seconds you hear the *beep beep beep* of them backing up into something, and the old lady (or man sometimes) who can't reach something and looks to me as if I'm some Amazon lady who can get it down for them (not that I especially mind, I like being tall...).
I hate walking in the mall during a busy day and I look off into the distance to see a stampede of strollers coming my way, forming an impenetrable barrier of offspring. They're usually young mothers in ugly yoga pants and unbrushed hair walking handle bar to handle bar and completely oblivious to the world around them. There are times when I don't move and they look at me as if I'M the rude one taking up all the space.
I also hate shopping in stores where I'm the only customer and I've got three sales people trailing after me asking if I need help. How many people really need help shopping for clothes, I wonder? Wouldn't I be the best person to consult on what I'm going to wear? It only makes sense.