I Met An Asshole At The Grocery Store Yesterday

by Cookie


So yesterday I had to stop quickly at the grocery store for oranges.  My kids eat a disproportionatley large amount of oranges compared to all other things, and Sobeys had them on sale 10pounds for 10 bucks.  Ok.  I’ll make a special trip for that.  Although now oranges are exploding all over my kitchen enough that Bestie commented on it last night.

Anyway, this super over friendly dude has this little booth set up when you walk in the door.  He asks me if i want to enter a draw to win 500$ in groceries.

Well yes.  Yes I do, but I don’t want to buy any of your shit.

So as I’m filling out the ballot and he is trying to sell me the newspaper with all these wonderful free gifts, he’s chatting with Buddy who’s sitting in the cart.  The Destroyer is putting everything that resembles an orange in the car in an effort to be a real pain in the ass.

Sorry I spelled that wrong.  In an effort to be helpful.  She was being helpful.

So he asks me how old they are, and I tell him.  “Two and four”

He’s like “Oh that’s so awesome.”  ( because everything is so awesome and amazing with this asshole that he should probably be a contestant on The Bachelor.)

And I say “Yeah, we’re almost out of the horrible part where no one sleeps and everyone cries and shits their pants.”  ( or something along those lines)

And then he says to me “Well my son is six and I love MY son.”

What the actual fuck?

I felt like I had accidentally warped into the Facebook page of one of those Mommy Groups where everything is organic and everyone is full of shit.

And crazy.  And an asshole.

Who actually says that to someone dragging their two preschooler/toddler children into a grocery store?  Have they ever actually grocery shopped with two tiny humans and had the pleasure of what a pain in the ass it is?

Of course I love my kids.  I love my kids enough that I actually didn’t punch that guy in the face.  Proof.

I just don’t love changing shitty diapers when I haven’t slept and wiping shit off someone elses balls while the other one is having a temper tantrum.  I could do without that.

So, Jerk That Sells Newspapers In A Grocery Store:  I’m sorry that I am a real person who doesn’t hide the truth.  I’m sorry that I am honest about how challenging raising children is.  I’m sorry that you love your son more because your wife was clearly the one to do the nighttime parenting while you worked on your assholing skills.I’m sorry that you now have no empathy for other people.

I’m sorry I didn’t buy your newspaper, but you honestly need a new sales pitch.

The End.