Friday, June 04, 2004

Ok, Maybe I'm a Jerk

I stopped off at Target last night to pick up some supplies, which I seem to do just about every night. Funny how my wife (or me, in most cases) goes there just about every day but always seems to need those "couple little things," which are, literally, going to be the death of me, or at least my wallet. The only lane open (yes...one lane out of about 15 or so) was being manned by my favorite trailer park she-beast. Long greasy hair, warts, moles, missing teeth, and no recollection of how she got any of them. It (the only pronoun I can think of which fits - ever see Silence of the Lambs?) seems to have an inability to enunciate and moderate the volume in which it attempts to speak.

Just before it rang up my total, it yelled at me, "YOU-GON-DONATE-MARCH-OF-DIMES-SAVE-DA-BABIES?!?!?"

It took a few trips to the store and having this thing wait on me to figure out what it was trying to mumble/shout. There's no smooth way of stating pre-emptively "and i won't be saving any babies today" without the other people in line looking at me with "it's only a dollar, a'hole" looks on their faces. Like I'm the bad guy here, I'm paying her frickin salary, much to my horror.

It's not that I dislike babies. I like babies a lot. Well, as long as they're not puking on me or screaming "Noooooooooooo!". What I dislike is some drooling mongoloid yelling at me about saving babies for a buck and scribbling my name on a paper shoe or hot air balloon and taping it to the front window of the store. I've seen and heard enough to know that not a whole lot of that buck is going to the March of Dimes to actually save these unknown babies and I don't necessarily feel comfortable having my name on a piece of paper on the front of the store, nor is it worth giving a buck to some fat cat pulling down six figures per year for running a "non-profit" outfit.

As I was walking out, the lady in line behind me was asked the same question.

"YOU-GON-DONATE-MARCH-OF-DIMES-SAVE-DA-BABIES?!?!?"

"Yes, I will," she answered smugly. Probably in some lame attempt to claim scoreboard over my non-giving ass. This prompted me to respond with, "Easy there, charity woman. I don't think the ten cents of your dollar that actually makes it to this "charitable" organization will change a life. The don't call it the March of DIMES for nothing." Then I casually strolled out of Toothless Tessie's life for another 16 hours or so.

What did I buy, you ask??
~Cat food, laundry soap, box of wine, rubbers....all related. Don't ask.

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Comments:
"Come on, trailer trash fantasy? I hear toothless women make good lovers."

Is that a proposition? :o)
 
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