Yesterday I took all three of the kids to Target. (I appreciate your compassion.) Halfway through loading all of our items onto the conveyor belt (which leaves me with half a cart full of other items, in case you're doing the math), a guy with a large suitcase pulls up next in line. He takes his massive luggage and plunks it onto the belt.
Are you kidding? I still have HALF A CART FULL HERE, buddy. Wanna move your luggage?
No, he doesn't. He doesn't even try to keep it from moving forward. I have to unload at mach speed to ensure I have enough space to put my things down. The check-out girl looks at him and then back at me and gives me a look that says, "Is he for real?" And with my eyes, I say, "What is happening here?"
We communicate with our eyes, me and Check-Out Girl. She feels me.
My arms were moving so fast, getting the last of my loot on the belt, that they were a blur to anyone passing by. I was practically The Flash. (Except that for me, the speed was crippling, and when I was done, I was enfeebled.)
As I'm loading my bags into my cart, no lie, the guy plops this gigantic thing onto the tiny table (where you write your checks) and FLIPS IT OPEN! Oh. Yes, he did. And you know what happened? He knocked my groceries onto the floor at this poor girl's feet.
Me and Check-Out Girl? Our eyes are BUGGING OUT! "Can you believe this guy?!"
Not one apology, y'all. Not even a nonchalant, "my bad". NOTHING. Not a sound. Not even a grunt from this apparent caveman who is not accustomed to coming out into society where OTHER PEOPLE LIVE.
And every word of it, true.