Saturday, July 18, 2009

A Flash Of Brilliance Or Get It The Hell Off Me!

After hitting the comic shop I decided to head to Home Depot to see if they had that Black and Decker tiller/cultivator thing in stock.
The route I took brought me past CiCis Pizza, and, as it was after 1:00 I figured that it probably wouldn’t be completely packed, so I decided to stop there for a late lunch.
It actually wasn’t too crowded, but still crowded enough that I didn’t want to hang out there any longer than I had to.
After that I stopped at Home Depot and found that the tiller was in stock, so I picked one up.
From there it was off to Target to get the weekly shopping done.
Before I could do any shopping, though, I had to answer nature’s call, which I hate having to do when I’m in a public place, though I was amazed to see that the systems that are in place to monitor whether or not I need to use the bathroom were apparently not working today as the bathroom was actually open and available. Given my pressing need to use the facilities I thought for sure that it would be closed for cleaning.
One of the reasons I hate spending a significant amount of time in a public restroom is that it’s pretty much impossible to get anything even remotely like peace and quiet, which, quite frankly, I view as a prerequisite for a positive restroom experience.
I had no hope of getting peace and quiet to begin with, but if I had, that hope would have soon been shattered by this little kid loudly making use of the stall next to me.
The whole time he was in there he was singing to himself, but beyond that he kept loudly talking to his dad, who was outside the stall waiting for him.
Of course, what was kind of odd was that the dad was apparently even more annoyed by the kid than I was:

Kid: Dad?
Dad: *Sigh* What?
Kid: I love you!
Dad: Just hurry up!

After that it was time to wade through the obstacle course of ccrying, screaming – and apparently parent-loving – children and try to get my shopping done.
As I was trying to get to a particular item, I had to move past the aisle and wade for a father and a pack of girls – I’m thinking that a group of children should have a name of its own, like a pride of lions, or a murder of crows – to get out of my way. The father was moving along without paying too much attention as to whether the group (Gaggle? Pod?) of girls was actually moving with him, choosing to simply trust that they would actually pay attention when he told them to “Hurry up.”
I stood there waiting for the lat of the girls to get out of my way when I became aware of tiny hands grabbing at my leg and I turned to look down on some little girl who was grabbing onto the cell phone case on my hip and saying, “You got a new phone!”
I stood there saying, “Uhhh…?” and internally screaming “Get it the hell off me!”
The girl grabbing at a strange man was enough to get the father to actually pay attention to what his daughters were doing.
That the girl was grabbing at me because she mistakenly thought I was her father didn’t make things any less uncomfortable.
As I moved on the thought occurred to me that there should be stores that cater exclusively to singles and childless couples. I mean, it makes sense; we’re a pretty desirable demographic, as, after all, we tend to have a lot more disposable income than those people saddled blessed with the litle monsters financial burdens miracles.
Of course, I realized that there’s no way for stores to legally discriminate against families, so the only method to weed them out would be to provide some disincentive to shopping there, which wouldn’t be quite foolproof enough for my tastes.
Then I had a flash of brilliance. Casinos, bars, and strip clubs can legally keep children out, so the solution is obvious: create casinos and strip clubs that also sell groceries, electronics, and other consumer products and household goods.
It’s the perfect solution. I mean, it even solves the problem of old people, as they’ll be parked in front of the penny machines all day long, keeping the aisles clear of sideways carts.
In the alternative, I suppose I could finally give in to Stacy’s suggestion and start doing my shopping online at Harris Teeter, but I don’t see how that’s going to get me a lapdance while I’m buying produce.

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