So I’m at the local grocery store today picking up some chips for New Year’s Eve and I get in the “8 items or less line.” If someone has a few extra items I don’t really care but this guy had a full grocery cart and just didn’t care. I mentioned to him that it was a shame nobody ever told him how to count and, when he got it several seconds later, he asked me why I cared and I just said that I was curious as to why he thought rules applied to everyone else and not him. He kindly told me to f-off and I figured that was it. I’d made my point, he endured his shame, end of discussion (or so I thought).

I’ve never seen a grocery clerk call someone on having too many groceries and if I was a teenager being paid minimum wage I wouldn’t care either so I don’t fault the clerk for just keeping her head down and ringing the guy through. So he gets checked out and turns to me and says something along the lines of, “So did that take too long for you?” I responded with, “I guess not. So I assume at this point you’re going to go load your groceries in your car parked in the handicapped parking spot?” At this point he really won the argument by threatening physical violence. I seriously doubt he would have had the yarbles to back that up and, even if he had, I would have just let him hit me and go to jail over too many items in his cart.

Unfortunately for him, he didn’t notice that he dropped some of his groceries out of his cart which I promptly deposited in the garbage for him. No buns for your baloney sandwich this afternoon? Happy new year, douche-bag.

This morning I was using a silver Sharpie to mark some of my Monsterpocalypse figures so that when I go to the tournament at 401 Games on Wednesday I'll be able to distinguish mine from other players' if they get mingled together. So the felt tip had dried out a little so I shook it to get the ink/paint flowing. Stupidly, I neglected to put the cap back on and splat! I had silver paint all over my face and glasses. Fortunately, Erin had some nail polish remover on hand so I got the paint of my glasses but sheesh. I had perfectly centred silver dots on my forehead and on the bridge of my nose. Erin cracked me up when she said that I looked like "KISS." I'm just glad that, somehow, none got on the carpet (I was sitting on the floor) or my Con on the Cob t-shirt.

I was at the Eaton Centre tonight and decided to get an ice-cream cone from Dairy Queen. In front of me in line were a young man and a young woman (early 20s I’d guess) who were clearly not a couple and it was amusing to watch. There’s something that’s equal parts sad and funny about watching a guy trying WAAAAYYYYY too hard to be the “kooky off-beat” guy to a girl that’s nice enough to hang out with him but with clearly no interest in being on his arm, so to speak. The guy was clearly off his meds and definitely was going for the quantity-over-quality approach when it came to his omni-directional scattergun of witticisms about every freaking thing he saw. This particular DQ shares its counter with an Orange Julius and, at the front, there is a display with real carrots, many of them in excess of three inches in diameter. Well, Mr. No-Ritalin-Today channeled his inner fourth-grader, picked up the biggest carrot he could find, and made loud, innuendo-laced comments in an attempt to try and embarrass the DQ employee and/or make the girl he was with blush/laugh/fall in love with him on the spot. Needless to say he went 0-2. To her credit, the DQ girl kept a straight face, completely no-sold the prop comedy, and completed her DQ spiel undeterred complete with an inverting of the Blizzard that the object of his unrequited affection ordered to illustrate just how darn upside-down-right thick it really was. After they left I asked the girl behind the counter how many times a day someone made “the carrot joke” and she said that it happens pretty much once an hour. She deserves a medal.