On a wrong day, going to your local supermarket can make storming the shores of Normandy with a seasick squadron seem like a picnic at the beach. Whether the experience breaks you or not depends on how many consumer-cretins you encounter.
Trolley dumpers – we get it, you’re two divorces deep, your kids are old enough to know you’re a loser and that fresh canary on your AU mocks you with its chirpy song of financial hardship.
You’re angry but discarding your trolley in a precious bay, often out of view of an incoming parker, isn’t the right way to go. Clean your act up for fucksake.
Boomers who think they can take on the self-service checkout – instead of waiting in line like the rest of your kind you have decided today is the day you perform a basic modern task. Lord help us all.
Typically, your need to buy enough food to fill several fallout bunkers means you’ll be rolling through with a full load. Which means you’ll be losing your shit about 28 times at a staff member as you demand to know why your canned prunes aren’t scanning.
Children on the loose – you’re a child so it’s not technically your fault that your parent’s feel the need to burden everyone with their decision to breed. Nevertheless, you lot aren’t particularly popular in the supermarket.
If you are set loose try to remember that almost every adult around you is one more high pitched screech away from reenacting various scenes in Falling Down. This is a place of solemn misery, not a Macca’s playground.
Blockaders – respect, spatial awareness and efficiency – these are the 3 demons you have successfully slain to become an aisle blockader. Typically, because you feel you are somehow more entitled to purchase groceries than others.
You may be slowly browsing or even worse – you’ve circled the jerk-wagons with a bunch of other blockaders to catch up on all the goss at your kid’s school with a friend. To add salt to the wound you’ll also roll your eyes at anyone trying to get clear. Real Order of Australia stuff.
Touching everything – there are rats in the bubonic era that have better hygiene practices than you. As a society, we accept that some goods must be handled and put back by a consumer but you take it too far.
You’re the Harvey Weinstein of the fresh produce section. Getting handsy with every fresh peach and melon you can find. It wouldn’t be such a problem if everyone didn’t suspect you’re a chronic soap dodger with a current filth saturation of a used endoscope.