Quality Hate

The break at AIU is over and I couldn’t be more elated. Downtime sucks. Not that I wasn’t busy on other things. I think the issue is something I mentioned a few posts back: the ordered path to success keeps me focused and happy. Allowed to figure out my own path creates uncertainty and, apparently, despair.

For instance, I literally felt my mood shift overnight lat last week. I was in sort of of “waking dream” — that moment between waking up and you’re still dreaming. I laid there feeling my optimism about people, things and what I was doing drain off. I remember saying to myself “Oh no! Not now! Not while everything was going so good.” I woke up and felt my usual ‘off’. That feeling that required I take some sort of Lexipro to reduce the anxiety.

The thing is, this was the first time I identified, clearly, when I had a severe mood shift. I’ve always felt I had little control of that changing of mood. One can argue that I have control of ‘fixing’ that downward spiral. On that, I agree with some of it. The effort is A LOT, though.

As a result, my hate for people all this week knew no bounds.

Especially at Walmart. 

All customers annoyed the fuck out of me. Ever notice those fat ass people on the electric carts; rolling around with their asses bleeding over the seat like uncontrollable dough? If I were to ever get that fat, stuck in a fucking electric cart, carting behind a line of other fat folks…it would be permissible to kill me in the parking lot before I get my fat ass out of the car.

The other day, one of these fat asses rolled up to me, minus any pleasantries (cause you know, their fat, so their evil) and she wanted some sort of jello.

In my mind, I was like: “You fat fuck. It’s too late.” 

The reality was, we didn’t carry what she was looking for in Produce. But she insisted that it used to be in the location she was pointing at — which of course did not carry ANYTHING remotely close to what she wanted.

Again, my mind was like: “You fat fuck.”

She rolls away, and 10 minutes later, she’s rolling back with another associate who came to ask me the same thing. She’s like “He don’t know.”

I was like: “You fat fuck!”

But what I said was: “It’s not that I don’t know. It’s more like your asking for jello in the produce department and looking for it on a shelf where there’s Guacamole and no fruit jello would ever be.”

So the fat fuck rolled off. In my mind, while I was contemplating the weight capacity of the cart she was on; feeling sorry for the cart—  I’m like: “If you weren’t so fucking fat, you’d probably find what your looking for under your lard, you pig shit fuck.”

I think the problem at most retail stores is the lack of education we provide to the customer. The lazy bitches drop anything they want anywhere: grapes in electronics. Toys in grocery. I’ve witnessed these idiots just shove anything they weren’t buying anywhere. Packaged meat in clothing. So, fuck you if we return warm ass meat back on the shelves and you get some sort of disease.

I’ve seen milk sitting on shelves away from the fridge and sooner or later it just gets placed back in the fridge going from hot to cold. I get on my own wife when she does that shit. Mostly cause I know, in all retail worldwide, returns (or the stuff customers drop where ever they fucking please) could have been out for hours. 

The better strategy when shopping would be to take all foods from the BACK. Not only are the expiration dates later but chances are that front facing cold milk was on the sales floor in electronics all night by a dumb fuck customer and their fucking kids.

Additionally, I’ve noticed just how many people are stuck to their phones. Mostly women (men wear head sets and they don’t look any less the asshole).  One thing I can’t stand is listening to other peoples conversations.

Women are the most vile offenders. Talking very loud in a conversation. In some cases, talking loud on speakerphone. Why THE FUCK do I have to listen to your fucking bodily issues and what medicine your taking? Or why you’re leaving your boyfriend? Or what other bitch is talking about you?

It’s an “I don’t give a fuck” era. People don’t give a fuck that they’re obese. They don’t give a fuck that they are broadcasting their shit to everyone in hearing range. They don’t give a fuck about not paying attention to their fucking kids while constantly being on the phone 24/7/365. 

Sigh.

On another, yet similar, note: my moves at Walmart are working.

I think I’ll have a department or supervising something soon. I can continue to hate every customer that walks in as long as the overall job is done. No worries about that because my personal plans are bigger than the fat fucks on the carts that, also, talk shit on their phones while bumping into shit. That’s the comedy of it all. 

Fuck ‘em. The success I’m looking for is to get above this level of shit I mentioned earlier. The customer scum quality that comes to this store. The employee assholes that work there. 

That dumbfuck Jessica, I mentioned way earlier; the one I had issues with, is still a problem but more on a personal level. I don’t talk to her if I don’t have to and she cuts her eyes at me for no reason. 

If this journal is all about venting a feeling or two: I wish her lifelong employment at Walmart doing nothing but the same shit she’s dong now. Which sums up to be about nothing.

Another thing going on: Hurricane Irma. With any luck, it will wipe out the filth of Florida. The problem is: it will affect South Georgia where my kids are.

How do I get my kids and find a way to say their mother she can’t come with us?

Save the religious christian love your neighbor shit. I would love for the bitch to drown on national TV while my kids are safe with me. “Daddy! Mommy died in the hurricane.” “That’s great dear! Let’s celebrate. Nothing a few therapy sessions won’t solve for you and your brother. As for me? I plan to party.”

I’m monitoring the weather and thinking of asking to get them Friday. Truth be told, I hear it might die down to a category 1 by the time it reaches this far in. 

Let the bitch figure her own way out of it. If I were to get them and she did get swept away — do you even understand the positive end of that lottery win?