Well... Let me tell you

It was one heck... yes I'm afraid I'm going to have to use that word, "heck",(gasp!) I know it will surprise some of you, but it was one HECK of a day, evening, night, what have you.

I got up around 5:30 and went and picked up the Focus from its oil change and check up. Had the injectors cleaned, which means I let the Ford conglomerate rip me off... but actually although it is probably a placebo effect the car seemed really tight driving back to the apartment... but I suppose it usually is a good ride. I just missed it.

Work was too busy, and I ended up being there until 9:00.

From work I realized I need quarters, so I went to Shaw's and purchased a couple of extra microwave dinners, which gave me an excuse to get cash back. Shaws was completely insane. (actually this whole evening was pretty much ludicrous... but I'll get to that) There were three registered opened besides the self check out aisles. I only had a couple of items, but I went in the shortest line because I wanted to get three dollars in quarters. As I'm waiting I'm watching with awe the various madness that unfolds around me.

Typically people treat those self check out lanes as express lanes. It just makes more sense, you can't bag your food that fast, there's no conveyor belt, and if you have fifty items, a cashier is going to be quicker.

Well... low and behold, there were a couple of neurotic bags (I'm talking about the women cashing out not any satchels) who were scanning all of their food. They were the type that nit picked everything, the type that think's their own obtuse short sightedness is actually due to the incompetence of others. The permanent confusion these fumbling fools perpetuate in is always a result of the world around them, not their inconsiderate, selfish, blinded, directionless momentum.

Woman # 1 was a middle aged Indian woman wearing thick glasses. She had a cart filled to the top, and picked out each item, one at a time, rolled it around in her hands, (yes both hands), looked for the price. Next she would scan it. Then should would once again look at the price, which may involve more searching because she'd lose track of where it was. Then she would compare the price to what it rang up as. Next instead of merely reaching over to drop her item in a bag, she would physically "walk" to the bag, then gently, with both hands put the item into the bag.

Woman #2 she was an aging bohemian and her basket, also overflowing was filled with such gems as organic rice pilaf, and grape nuts cereal. Much like Woman #1 she felt compelled to handle her objects one at a time. Woman #2 emanated that confidence, that she was doing this sooo much better than any one else. Despite that it was taking years, and she was even making notes in a personal memo book as she proceeded. Woman #2 repeatedly set off the security by putting unbagged items outside of bags, which causes some sensor on those auto registers to wack out. She felt the need to organize, meticulously what food went into what bag.

I must have stood there twenty minutes in line watching these two... who did not finish their orders in all of that time. (this isn't an exageration)

Next, lets move onto the cashier. This cashier was something else. He had to have been high, it is the only explanation that I can possibly think of. He felt the texture of the money, and would hold onto items for ten seconds, while staring into space. When I finally made it to my turn he just outright refused to give me quarters. (he didn't have any was his claim). Then he changed his mind and asked me how much I wanted. When it was very apparent that this frustrated pipe dreamer couldn't count I decided to take my money and go to the service desk.

Next to bitch and whine about:

The T

Yeah, overdone I know. I waited fifteen minutes for the red line. Nothing weird there. Then I make it to Park St. My plan was to take a green line train to Haymarket. The train conductor shut the doors in my face literally as I got on. So I got stuck in Park St. I waited about 15 minutes at which point I just decided to walk through the tunnel to try and reach an orange line train. After another twenty minutes it finally arrived.

The worst part is yet to come. Shuttle buses... those were expected, no big deal; But... if there was no buses available, which there weren't, it makes for a HECK of an ugly situation.

two hours and fifteen mutes later I get home.

I couldn't do my laundry... AND I NEED LAUNDRY BADLY... so up at five. Oh well

Better go now!