You can shove those thin mints straight up your ass

I made some bomb.com ribs in the crock pot last night for dinner. Bomb if I do say so myself. I very rarely produce anything even remotely close to culinary greatness, so when something actually turns out yummy (and not poisonous) I am the first one to pat myself on the back. It was the easiest recipe ever and all I was missing from my cabinets was BBQ sauce. It was going to be a quick trip to the store and I would be on my way to a delicious, and easy-peasy, dinner.

I live exactly 2 minutes away from a Raleys grocery store, so I jumped in my car and drove around the corner. When I pulled into the parking lot I noticed that there were picketers outside. Now I know you are not supposed to cross a picket line otherwise you are basically saying to these people that "I don't give a shit about what your labor issue is". I can't say that I was particularly interested in what their gripe was, I was more interested in getting my BBQ sauce and getting back home. Unfortunately, I was approached by a man, about my fathers age, with a flyer and a need to discuss his beef (not literally) with me.

From what I gleamed off our 2 minute long conversation, Raleys does not want to offer medical benefits to retired employees (or not pay for them anymore, either way, retiree's would now have to pay for their own healthcare). As much as I tried to be sympathetic, I swear I really really tried, I just didn't care. Do you know why I don't care? Because I have to pay for my own health insurance. So I don't feel bad for you if you are not getting yours for free. ESPECIALLY if you are no longer even working for the company that you expect to pay for said benefits. I am sure that they paid for those benefits for the maaaaaaaany years that you faithfully dedicated yourself to your job with them. Good for them, that is about all I personally feel that they are obligated to do for you. Maybe that is my jaded opinion because no one is paying my health insurance for me, but there it is. So shoot me.

Even though I was wholly unsympathetic to his complaint I felt so guilty about  continuing on into the store that I stood there and waffled for a minute. This man was judging me with his eyes and I could tell that I was not about to continue my shopping trip without a huge guilt trip to go along with it. So what did I do? Well, like a giant pussy, I got back into my car and proceeded to drive 20 extra minutes to the Safeway across town. I am blaming it on PMS, I couldn't deal with any sad-faced judgmental attacks by a man who is probably riddled with cancer and now has no healthcare to pay for his treatment. I almost cried because my pony-tail holder ripped in half that morning, I was already on emotional overload. PMS sucks, FYI.

I arrived at Safeway, already angry that I had to drive across town in the first place. But I put a smile on my face and proceeded into the store. Well, I attempted to go into the store. While on my way inside I was surrounded by, much like little yappy dogs circling your knees, tiny Girl Scouts pleading with me to purchase cookies to support their troop. I politely declined, no reason necessary. If you don't want something you should definitely NEVER be made to feel badly for not purchasing it. I don't care what the great cause is that the money goes to, why would I buy cookies that I do not like and would never eat? That is a waste of my money. I have plenty of other things that I choose to spend my hard earned money on, and nasty cookies are not high on my list of priorities. Thankyouverymuch.

Once inside the store I made a beeline for the BBQ sauce. I found the perfect one, and feeling optimistic that I was nearing the end of my grocery store journey for the day I made my way to the register. The place was a zoo, full of people buying turkeys and the lines were long. I picked the least offending looking line and waited patiently for my turn. Needless to say that after about 8 minutes of standing behind two women (one with a price check from hell that took waaaaaaay to long, and the other with her various food stamp vouchers) my patience was worn to the max. I just wanted to pay for my damn BBQ and go home!!!  Why did the cooking Gods hate me so much?

After paying for my BBQ sauce and exiting the store I was AGAIN accosted by those little Girl Scout leaches.  I politely declined AGAIN and began to turn around and head the other way. As I did this I noticed that the mother of one of these little future "most annoying girl in our class" candidates gave me a really nasty look. And I kind of lost my shit. I had had enough. So I turned to face her and I said "I don't like Girl Scout cookies. There is no need for that nasty look you just gave me". She seemed a bit taken aback that I would call her out, but recovered and said "It goes to a good cause". To which I replied, "I am sure it does, but I am still not buying cookies that I don't like. There is no need for rudeness. I am sure plenty of other people will buy them". I turned and walked back to my car wishing that instead of being a calm and collected (impressive considering my current state of internal emotional meltdown) version of myself that I had flipped that stupid table holding all the cookies over and stomped away.

When I reached my car I noticed that there were two people standing next to their car, which happened to be parked right beside mine, and they were chain smoking and getting all that nasty smell in my car, which I had mistakenly left the window down on. Ugh. Now, on top of everything else, my car smelled like an ash tray.

I drove home, quietly, with the radio off hoping that I could make it back without any more ridiculousness. Luckily, I did. I got my ribs into the crock pot and my dinner turned out better than I anticipated. Or maybe really it was just passable, but because of the trying events leading to their preparation, anything would have tasted like heaven.

 I guess we may never know.