November 15, 2011

The Douchebag in the Dairy Aisle

A few weeks ago I changed the alert sound my phone makes when I receive a text message. The previous tone was the same as my wife and ten million other people, so I was often confused. The wife would get a text and I would get up from my recliner and look at my phone.  I changed the sound to a little whistle. Not a wolf whistle, but a "hey" kind of  whistle.

I don't know why. The "why". is not important to this story.  It just is the tone I am using. Pay attention.

So, I am at my friendly Kroger Sunday afternoon buying groceries (what a concept). I stood behind a woman at the dairy section blocking up the cheese selection. I waited politely and even sighed to let her know she could move her fat ass and cart -- to no avail. It was about then my daughter sent me a text: whooo-weet. That little whistle got me a dirty look. Offended, she made her selection and moved out of my way.

I got her attention, even if it was unintentional.

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