Well, folks, this story isn't really a rant. Or a vent. It's more, well, something else altogether. Not only that, but I learned something important about my own antecedents and genetics. A Twofer!
There I was, standing in the checkout line of the local greengrocers, after a rather long day, heading into a longer night. I'd come from my doc's office, and I'd had a wee medical procedure. Not much, mind you, but..y'know. A little numbing there, a little here, and maybe, just maybe, you're not on top of your game.
It's rush hour, on top of everything else. The lines are extremely--extremely--long. I finally get to the cashier, I've risked life and limb loading and unloading the cursed cart, and I'm ready to swipe my chipped card, right?
The cashier, a mature lady, looks up at me, BEAMS like a lighthouse, and says "Oh, GREAT news!"
I look up at her, thinking..."uh....price of eggs go down?"
And she announces--loudly enough to be heard from one end of the store to the other...smiling like a drunken Cheshire cat..
"It's SENIOR DAY!!!"
I think I blinked once, and then my mouth opened, and this
ungodly sound came out. Loudly, incoherently, and worse, In Public. They probably heard me back in the damn dairy section.
I swear, until that moment,
I had no idea that I was part Wookie.
Before you ask...yes, she still has her arms.
(Worse? Behind me, two carts back, some guy is now
ROLLING with laughter. Meanwhile, the woman immediately behind me, who looks almost EXACTLY like a 48ish Annette Funicello, perks up and announces
"I'm 69!" I considered shooting both of them, but...I figured that the local constabulary might frown on my concept of "imminent harm" and "self-defense.")
Grrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrr........ ...
Hitch