Ice cream: Life’s most important decision
You know those cashiers who make snide remarks about the food you’re buying? Or how about that waitress/waiter who makes you feel like crap for cleaning your plate? They always say something along the lines of, “Oh boy, someone is hungry.” Well, I’m a cashier and I can guarantee that I would never in a million years say anything about someone else’s food. If you want to buy every single cake that Little Debbie makes, then you go right ahead and treat yourself! My line is a judgment-free zone. I will most likely be drooling and dreaming about Swiss Rolls after you leave.
Unfortunately, a shelf stocker at Walmart doesn’t follow this same rule. Let me paint a picture for you.
The guy I have been not so secretly crushing on had just ruined our plans by being a gigantic ignoramus and incapable of being direct. My ego was bruised and I wasted a perfectly good outfit for nothing. I decided that this was the perfect opportunity to get my chocolate fix on.
All I wanted was the new Ben and Jerry’s Core ice cream. You know — the one with the chocolate fudge and peanut butter cups? Heaven! So, I’m standing in front of the cooler doors, desperately searching for my flavor. Obviously they are out, because the ice cream gods don’t want me to be happy. As I open the door to pick my go-to flavor, this kid working there says to me, “Big life decision, huh?”
No. No. No. What in the hell is wrong with you? No. I will punch you right in the throat, you Walmart bastard.
That was my thought process. All I could mutter to him was, “Yeah, kinda.” Like, what the fudge?! Can’t I look at ice cream without someone reminding me that my double chins don’t need to become triplets? What I really should have said to him, and will say once we invent those time machines I have been asking for, is, “What does it matter to you, string bean? Keep on moving that pallet of Walmart shit down the aisle and let me indulge myself for a little bit. I really shouldn’t have to answer to someone if I feel like buying some junk food.”
Is he the kind of guy that, when you go on a date with him, you feel like you need to order a side salad and tell the kitchen to hold the chicken and croutons because you’re watching your figure? I wish I could remember his face, because if I ever found him on one of my dating sites, I would Catfish the hell out of him. MTV, I’m coming for you!
If I had a penis, I’m sure he would have kept his comments to himself. I’m really not trying to describe this as an attack on my gender, but yeah, I kind of am. Like girls don’t get enough shit about their bodies without some random person having to remind us. Next time, I’ll try to decide between baby carrots and celery sticks.
How about all retail and restaurant personal make a pact right now to never make a comment about anything a customer is buying. Ever. Would you tell someone buying a dress or a pair of shoes that they are the most god awful things you have ever seen and they should go try again? I don’t think so! So why do it when people are eating? Such a strange world we live in.
Oh, and in case you were wondering, I ate half that carton of ice cream with absolutely NO SHAME! Take that ass face!