hump day half-wit bit

two cents?

fucking seriously?

the other day i ran to the store to get puppy food and other weekly supplies. i went to ring up, paid in cash (and yes, i had already had my weekend check customer dealing – quoth my boy evan, “who the fuck still uses paper checks these days?” answer – “the bitch ahead of me in line at HEB!”) and the total was $35.16.

i handed the little sissy boy ringing me up $40.14 and said “i’m two cents shy – is that cool?”

blank stare.

i reiterated, “do you have two cents?”

“um…no…” (turns to girl running register next to him) “do you have two cents?”

“um…er…(checks)…no” (yells three registers down) “do you have two pennies?”

“what the FUCK?!?!?!? it’s two FUCKING cents!” (i scrape the change off the little table/counter thingie standard at any grocery store for that bitch in line ahead of me to write her check on) just take it out of the forty bucks! sue me, i just didn’t want eighty-four fucking cents back, but if two cents off on your drawer will cost you your job and shit, we’re not in a third world country or anything, just give me the fucking change and get me out of here – this should NOT have to be a group fucking effort!”

apparently i exceeded this kid’s “fuck per minute” in this conversation, going off the look on his face. got my $4.84 cents change and went the fuck home. when i got up this morning and went to put on yesterday’s jeans i picked ’em up off the floor and every blessed fucking cent fell on the floor…

…fuck that little sissy HEB kid. ended yesterday shitty, started today for me shitty with change all over my bedroom floor. asshole. no wonder jocks at his school probably kick his ass…

(damn, i’m bitter as shit when i write these bits while intoxicated, huh?)