Let me commence this post by declaring that no court has ever ruled that I should have anger management counselling. I'm not a physically aggressive or threatening person. I am, however, remarkably adept at surrounding myself with utter tools who deserve a jolly good slapping on a regular basis (and not the good kind either).
Take Mr Brick Wall today. I encountered him in the lunch line at The Corner Bakery in the lobby of my building. I shouldn't have been there anyway, given that Biggsy tells me their food is fattening and generally crap anyway but despite his input, I was there. Convenience sometimes wins out.
Mr Brick Wall was your typical pudgy business suit type. Paunchy, sweaty, and clearly uncomfortable in a crowd. Yet despite these very obvious traits, he felt compelled to wait for his lunch right in front of the kitchen door. Yes, friends, he blocked the door so that every waitress who entered or exited the kitchen nearly toppled over him and THEY were the ones who said "excuse me" all the time.
What is that?!
Then Mr Brick Wall's work colleagues showed up and they too stood right in Waitress Walkway. And when their Number 135 special wasn't served up within 4 nanoseconds, they loudly took one hapless waitress aside and demanded their lunch. Jerks.
All the while, Mr Brick Wall huffed and puffed, all the while being the biggest obstacle in the place. And yet I seemed to be the only person in the whole cafe bothered by this. How can someone so physically solid be so clueless about how much space they consume? And how could he not realise that he was disturbing the waitresses otherwise smooth passage from the kitchen to the cafe? Hmm perhaps he thought that their repetitive 'excuse me's were a clever Customer Service strategy? Oh give me a break, surely not.
And so it was that I mused about this man and narrowed my eyes to small slits to leer at him from the 'Waiting Bench'. And when my 'death glares' yielded no result (ie he was not smote), I took my salad and left Mr Brick Wall in the Cafe, where he presumably obstructed the waiting staff for a good 10 minutes more at least. Sigh, there's one in every cafe, isn't there?
1 comment:
Or like the nuvo-mum in the shopping centre with her 'brilliant' 4 year old in the trolley and the conversation goes something like this:
No Johnny you can't have that packet of chips. Becoz chips are not good for you.
Put them back on the shelf Johnny.
I mean it Johnny, put them back .... now.
Don't you open them Johnny or you're in for it.
OK ... but don't you dare eat any of them or you'll have your father deal with you.
She gets to the checkout and says to the cashier .... yes, all of these .... oh, and this packet of chips too.
Johnny one ... nuvo-mamma nil. Whatever happened to a good old fashioned cuff under the ear ..... ????
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