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Lady cuts in front of me in line. I don't want to bother arguing with her, then she takes out a CHECKBOOK! A checkbook for three fucking things that cost less than $10! Of course she doesn't write out as much as she can before she knows the total. And she cares about penmanship, as if she's writing a fucking love letter. Oh, she can't find her driver's license in her oversized hobo bag filled with various wallets, cosmetic bags and a little sandwich bag filled with large wooden buttons. The same kind of buttons on her paper bag linen outfit with elastic waist pants. But she finds her ATM card. Doesn't know how to use it, keeps pushing the wrong button, cancel transaction, try again...

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Lady cuts in front of me in line. I don't want to bother arguing with her, then she takes out a CHECKBOOK! A checkbook for three fucking things that cost less than $10! Of course she doesn't write out as much as she can before she knows the total. And she cares about penmanship, as if she's writing a fucking love letter. Oh, she can't find her driver's license in her oversized hobo bag filled with various wallets, cosmetic bags and a little sandwich bag filled with large wooden buttons. The same kind of buttons on her paper bag linen outfit with elastic waste pants. But she finds her ATM card. Doesn't know how to use it, keeps pushing the wrong button, cancel transaction, try again...

 

 

First time shopper?

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Lady cuts in front of me in line. I don't want to bother arguing with her, then she takes out a CHECKBOOK! A checkbook for three fucking things that cost less than $10! Of course she doesn't write out as much as she can before she knows the total. And she cares about penmanship, as if she's writing a fucking love letter. Oh, she can't find her driver's license in her oversized hobo bag filled with various wallets, cosmetic bags and a little sandwich bag filled with large wooden buttons. The same kind of buttons on her paper bag linen outfit with elastic waste pants. But she finds her ATM card. Doesn't know how to use it, keeps pushing the wrong button, cancel transaction, try again...

 

 

First time shopper?

 

What is it with the swooshy, swirly, loopy handwriting?

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Lady cuts in front of me in line. I don't want to bother arguing with her, then she takes out a CHECKBOOK! A checkbook for three fucking things that cost less than $10! Of course she doesn't write out as much as she can before she knows the total. And she cares about penmanship, as if she's writing a fucking love letter. Oh, she can't find her driver's license in her oversized hobo bag filled with various wallets, cosmetic bags and a little sandwich bag filled with large wooden buttons. The same kind of buttons on her paper bag linen outfit with elastic waste pants. But she finds her ATM card. Doesn't know how to use it, keeps pushing the wrong button, cancel transaction, try again...

 

 

First time shopper?

 

What is it with the swooshy, swirly, loopy handwriting?

 

I believe that reflects someone who lives in a fantasy world, and judging from the rest of the story, that makes sense. She obviously thinks she's special.

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Hey, you! Former Suzy Sorority, Junior Leaguer-Wannabe in your hot pink Lily Pulitzer floral print dress, pushing the double grocery cart stocked with enough food to feed the starting offensive line of the Dallas Cowboys for a month. You, yelling to your 4 year old to hurry and get in the checkout line in front of the lady with the basket at the only open checkout line. That would be me and my 5 items vs. your approximately 200. You should be counting your blessing I did not have a cart. Because it would now be adorned with your blonde haired, blue eyed, matching hot pink Lily Pulitzer-clad 4 year old as its hood ornament.

 

A big thank you to the store manager who saw this and opened a register to take me and my 5 items. And, the checker at that line who gave you the death glare and seemed to be relishing taking her own sweet time even starting to ring your items.

 

 

Lady cuts in front of me in line. I don't want to bother arguing with her, then she takes out a CHECKBOOK! A checkbook for three fucking things that cost less than $10! Of course she doesn't write out as much as she can before she knows the total. And she cares about penmanship, as if she's writing a fucking love letter. Oh, she can't find her driver's license in her oversized hobo bag filled with various wallets, cosmetic bags and a little sandwich bag filled with large wooden buttons. The same kind of buttons on her paper bag linen outfit with elastic waist pants. But she finds her ATM card. Doesn't know how to use it, keeps pushing the wrong button, cancel transaction, try again...

 

I wonder if these two women are related...

 

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Hey, you! Former Suzy Sorority, Junior Leaguer-Wannabe in your hot pink Lily Pulitzer floral print dress, pushing the double grocery cart stocked with enough food to feed the starting offensive line of the Dallas Cowboys for a month. You, yelling to your 4 year old to hurry and get in the checkout line in front of the lady with the basket at the only open checkout line. That would be me and my 5 items vs. your approximately 200. You should be counting your blessing I did not have a cart. Because it would now be adorned with your blonde haired, blue eyed, matching hot pink Lily Pulitzer-clad 4 year old as its hood ornament.

 

A big thank you to the store manager who saw this and opened a register to take me and my 5 items. And, the checker at that line who gave you the death glare and seemed to be relishing taking her own sweet time even starting to ring your items.

 

 

Lady cuts in front of me in line. I don't want to bother arguing with her, then she takes out a CHECKBOOK! A checkbook for three fucking things that cost less than $10! Of course she doesn't write out as much as she can before she knows the total. And she cares about penmanship, as if she's writing a fucking love letter. Oh, she can't find her driver's license in her oversized hobo bag filled with various wallets, cosmetic bags and a little sandwich bag filled with large wooden buttons. The same kind of buttons on her paper bag linen outfit with elastic waist pants. But she finds her ATM card. Doesn't know how to use it, keeps pushing the wrong button, cancel transaction, try again...

 

I wonder if these two women are related...

 

 

Mine probably spawned yours.

 

Another supermarket annoyance that happened a few weeks ago. Mother and daughter have the cashier ring up over 30 different kinds of snacks. Power bars, candy bars, granola bars, etc.. After everything is rung up, they ask why everything isn't half off, they thought there was a special. Then they tell the cashier they only wanted price checks and they can't buy the items because they don't have enough money.

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The MTA. You can, the website tells you, buy a MetroNorth webticket. So you choose a train, start to check out, and are informed the ticket cannot be printed but will be mailed to you in 'one or two days'. Does that make any sense??? I'm traveling this afternoon, damn it.

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The MTA. You can, the website tells you, buy a MetroNorth webticket. So you choose a train, start to check out, and are informed the ticket cannot be printed but will be mailed to you in 'one or two days'. Does that make any sense??? I'm traveling this afternoon, damn it.

you want all that and your cake, too?

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oh good, it's freshman move-in day at harvard

And all the NYU kids have taken over Union Square.

Not today, they haven't. It's pissing down. (As I'm sure you've noticed.)

Last night, though, was just crazy down there.

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an hour spent trying to figure out why my mother's laptop was not connecting to our wireless network (and envisioning the horrible spectacle of having her sitting in my office with her laptop connected via ethernet) before i realized that the damn thing has a not very prominent wireless on/off button on the outside which was set to "off". in my defence, it is terrible product design: all it is is a tiny icon that lights up when you press it down. if it's not on it's not obvious that it's in an "off" state. well, not obvious to one of my formidable intellectual capacity at any rate.

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There's a picture of me in the Kansas City Star (maybe online version only) stuffing my face with a sparerib. It's not the most flattering picture in the world, for sure. At least they didn't get the bbq sauce on my shirt in the picture, or they were kind enough to crop it out. :lol:

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