Pettiness is the refuge of small minds.

The wonderful weekend was marred only by a single incident at the un-Safeway on Columbia Rd. Well, it would have been marred if I were the type of person who doesn't like to berate patently stupid people in a public setting.

Sunday at the grocery store. Everything is on sale. Nothing is on the shelves. The lines for the registers go halfway down the aisles. You know it. You love it.

So I'm waiting in the 15 item or less line with my little basket of food. After the ball game the gf, Jake and I had gotten some margaritas and Mexican at Alero's, the buzz was wearing off and I was getting antsy. Some people got in line behind me, and then the fun started.

Whiny bitch: It is sooooooooo hot in here. I think that its hotter in here than it is outside. (Patently wrong. It is at least ten degrees cooler in the store. But who am I to correct a stranger.) Doesn't it look like that woman ahead of us has more than 15 items in her basket? It totally does. I hate it when people do get in the express line with more than their limit. Its, like, the worst thing ever. I'm going to go count her items.

Excuse me? No one really cares about that shit that much, so they? She then goes and stands next to this woman for five minutes trying to count how many items are in her hand-basket. Frustrated by her inability to count to fifteen without using her toes, she comes back to line.

When my gf joins me in line, I'm sure that this woman is going to make some snide remark about cutting in line or something equally petty. But no, she saves her comments for when we have placed our items on the conveyor belt. Standing behind us, she turns to her partner in douche-bagger and comments on my gfs items in a loud-enough-so-that-everyone-around-can-hear-what-mind-blowing-information-I-have-to-convey voice: "That is sooo many more than 15 items. Why isn't she in another line. She should get out of the way and let us go. I hate it when people do shit like that." She rambles on a we stare at each other for a moment in disbelief before I tear into this useless sack of crap masquerading as a sentient being. Standing in line, with everyone looking, I let it go. "Are you fucking kidding me? That is the pettiest shit I've ever heard. Follow me on this one: one, two, three...(getting up there)..twelve...(shit miscalculated)...fourteen. (whew) I guess math wasn't your fucking strong suit honey. Maybe next time you should try not being wrong."

WB: But she has three bags of lettuce....
"Oh yeah, and there are four pears in that bag. Do you count them all too?" Pause. Breathe. "Maybe you should shut the fuck up."

Then because pettiness deserves pettiness in return, when I'm paying for my groceries I turn back to the poor, stupid woman and ask "Is it ok if I use my credit card in this line, or do I need to go somewhere else?" To which she replied with a quickly dimming spark of attitude "It doesn't say anything on the sign." "Yeah, I thought so. Important lesson of the day, a basket of groceries is 15 items."

In my mind, the entire grocery store would've burst into applause. I hate petty fucking people.