Okay, so it’s Monday and we’re back in the swing of things. I would go into detail regarding last night’s Sunday Night Football showcase but I have to be honest: I went full adult and retired to my bed at the half following Ben’s absolute rope to Antonio Brown for a 30-yard score.
Instead, I decided to finish watching the third Harry Potter movie, The Prisoner of Azkaban. Last week, a couple of my buddies were debating their favorite Harry Potter movies because they’re degenerate sociopaths and I realized something: I don’t know shit about Harry Potter.
I remember enjoying the movies when I was younger and I even read the third book (humble brag) but I couldn’t tell you what happened after that. I remember Quidditch, that dipshit cuck Dobby, and that potentially problematic bank in Diagon Alley ran by a flock of four-foot, presumably Jewish goblins but that’s the most my memory can squeeze out nowadays. I was not prepared for the whole side narrative where Ron’s smashing Hermione but that’s why we play the game.
But yeah, I finished the third one last night and just rented Goblet of Fire and Order of the Phoenix with the same library card I’ve routinely employed to a.) check out books; and b.) arrange lines of Adderall in the stalls of my university’s library restroom (jokes).
Anyway, for those who’ve been following me for a bit, you know I’m a big integrity guy. I’m a man of rectitude, and when that rectitude is not reciprocated, things tend to become dicey. When I write these blogs, I’m not necessarily condemning society, rather, I’m gauging the court of public opinion because—as a journalist—without objectivity, I am nothing.
Earlier today after work, I headed down to a local market in my town. For the record, this place is your typical liberal, “I’m going to make a difference through the vehicle of social media” utopia. The term “organic” is plastered across every label and there’s always at least one dickhead with a scarf hammering away on his computer in search for the best ticket price on the next Lumineers concert. I don’t know, there’s something about the ambiance that makes me want to gently push a young toddler down until he/she/it gets frustrated. I’d rather give myself a colonoscopy with a rusty screwdriver than spend more than a half hour sharing oxygen with these people, but I digress…
I threw headphones in, waltzed over to the salad bar, and began dumping a deplorable amount of Romaine lettuce/grilled chicken into a plastic container. Side note: I’ve heard rumblings on the local news about a mass recall on Romaine lettuce due to its linkage with a recent breakout of E. coli infections but, since I’m a world class athlete and not a complete pussy, I ignored it like I do everything else. If I get E. coli, then good. I’m not afraid of leaves, bro. I’ll wear that shit…
So I get to the register, and here’s where things get interesting: there are 4-5 people in line and, after waiting for roughly a minute or so, I realize I had forgot to grab plastic utensils. Suddenly, I drop my Caesar salad on the conveyer belt, and demonstrate a “I’ll be back in one second” gesture to the latter half of the line.
When I return, the woman who was behind me had taken it upon herself to manipulate the order of the line. Instead of allowing me to regain my position in line, she did this weird Dennis Rodman-esque box out move when I went to walk around her and, since I wasn’t about to check a 60+year-old woman over the register in broad daylight, I resolved to just accept my repressed consumer status.
Now, most of you probably don’t think this is a big deal but that’s where you’re wrong. Without rules, there is no structure; without structure, we’re no more evolved than our neanderthal ancestors. It is my contention that society cannot conduct itself in such reckless fashion, which begs the question: what’s the rule on retaining your spot in line at the store?
Understandably, there are some situations where I would agree that line spot retention isn’t warranted. For example, if you’re grabbing another item that’s a considerable distance from the counter, then yeah, you’re toeing the line. If you’re leaving the store for some reason—to grab a wallet, change, etc.—then yeah, you’re going to the back.
However, I was grabbing utensils. For starters, the utensils are essentially a component of my item, as in there’s no added scanning to be done; secondly, if said establishment does not have utensils readily available at the register/exit of the store, they’re cowards.
When I’m making a salad, my only focus is on not dumping too much dressing into the disposable bowl. This is a critical step that could lead to devastation if not executed appropriately, which is why any interruptions (such as remembering to grab utensils at the actual bar) should be preemptively eliminated.
– Joey Boats (@joey_boats)