An Open Letter to the Cashier at My Neighborhood Grocery Store

I don’t hate you, you should know that. I want to you to make better choices in life so that you don’t have to wait on assholes who buy individual bananas, but I don’t hate you.

You should also know that this isn’t an elitist thing, because although I am better than you, I don’t care about how much money you make or the number of federally funded programs you are currently taking advantage of.

Really, I just want you to hurry the fuck up.

There are 15 people behind me and since the asshole in front of me singled out YOU to get him a box of Camels unfiltered (are you fucking serious?) then I guess you better pick up the goddamn pace.

I do not have time for you to shuffle to the cigarette case, try 23 different keys, and then stare back at your now 20 person deep line, daring me to tell you to hurry up.

Listen.

I will end your life right here and right now. I will beat you to death with that loaf of french bread that the lady behind me is EATING BEFORE SHE PURCHASED. I will tie you to the conveyer belt using slim jim wrappers and then I will see you in hell.

So hurry up. And get me a pack of Parliaments while you’re in there.