Shame, Shame, Shame

No, this isn’t a blog post about the merits and cultural impact of the Shirley & Company disco hit of 1974…no – this post will be my way of expunging my overflowing guilt filter.  Let me explain…

Last night, as J and I were shopping at a Shopper’s Drug Mart in our neighbourhood, I lost my mind.  Well, not so much my mind, but definitely my cool.  Part of me is proud of my actions to a certain point, but a larger part of me is ashamed of flying off the handle in public and generally making an ass of myself.  That part of me looks something like this…

So, we’re in line patiently waiting for our turn at the cash register.  To our left is a father and his daughter (truth be told, I thought she was an older woman of shorter stature waiting behind the man, her father); to our right is a woman at the cash, in the middle of her transaction.   The cashier on the left calls out, “Next in line, please.”  I look over and the father is still standing at the cash, putting his stuff together.  His daughter, like I said, didn’t seem to me to be his daughter, but another person in line directly for that cash.  I hestitated and then realized she was his daughter.  Then the cashier hollered again, “Next in line, PLEASE.”  The guy was STILL standing at the cash getting his stuff together so I decided not to crowd the poor guy and stood — just then, I feel someone push past me on my left.  I look over and see its an older woman (a real one this time).

“Excuse me,” I started to walk after her as she reached the cash, “I was next in line.”  I reached over to put my things on the counter in front of her.

“Well, you were just standing there,” she snapped, not even bothering to turn around to acknowledge the people she just shoved out of the way. I was totally appalled at her rudeness and lack of apology for it.

“C’mon – this one is open,” J said as he pulled me to the right-hand cash, which had opened up in the interim.

I started to walk towards the right-hand cash and said, “Well, most people would let the person in front of them know – what are we? Three?”  I put my stuff down on the counter, trying very hard to be polite to the nice woman who was serving us.

“I’m not a baby-sitter,” she snapped, still not turning around.

“Well,” I shot back, “You look old enough to be my baby sitter.”  There was an audible gasp from the people behind us in line.  The cashier serving us remained totally polite – I think she must see this kind of thing all the time.  I know from my days as a cash manager at Sam’s that I often found great satisfaction in either telling someone that they jumped the line, or watching another line dweller point it out to them.  We left the store, placed our purchases in my backpack and started to cross the street.

Now – it should be noted that in hindsight, I regret nothing I did or said up until this point.  She was rude and attempted to school us in line etiquette – her special form of line etiquette which involves scrambling to get to the cash first and to hell with anyone else.  Happy Holidays!

As we got to the other side of the street, I took the more seductive path – the Dark Side™ took over, I released my anger, letting it flow through me – my hate made me strong.  I saw the graduate of the Culinary University of Northern Texas leaving Shopper’s Drug Mart and I shouted, “BITCH!”

I screamed at her.  From across the street.

It was the white-trashiest thing I’ve ever done.  Trashier than when I decided that cut-off jean shorts and a wife-beater would be appropriate attire to my graduation.  Trashier than eating Chef Boyardee directly out of the can, not bothering to heat it up.  Yes, even trashier than cutting up hot dogs and putting them in Kraft Dinner.

Writing this post has definitely helped me deal with the great shame I feel at my lack of judgement and control.  I feel that I’ve released it into the universe to forgive myself and feel an inner peace.








Seeing the shocked jump and subsequent look of absolute terror on her face from across the street was, I will shame-facedly admit, a teensy bit satisfying.

Good day.


~ by seangstm on December 9, 2009.

5 Responses to “Shame, Shame, Shame”

  1. So. You have the temper in this relationship?

    Some people need a wake up call as to their public outdoor attitude. After walking through Toronto’s first snowstorm of the season I could have used your indiscreet lungs this morning.

  2. I don’t know if my temper is the problem as much as its my inability to just shut up and walk away.

    I had a bad day, had just come from the post office where some old woman pushed her way through the line (J was the one to say something to her this time) and then this bitch shoves me out of the way because I didn’t hit warp speed to get to the cash in the nanosecond of deciding time that she felt was appropriate.

  3. That is amazing! Hats off! As a small person and a person that has worked at Shoppers I know this type of anger well. I’m just too small to yell at people for fear of getting the crap kicked out of me. Thanks for letting one rude ass-clown know that they are in fact an ass-clown.She will think twice next time or at least look to see if you are around. 🙂

  4. Sometimes you just have to get it off your chest… If anyone should be ashamed, it’s that bitch for the way she acted and thought she’d get away with it… If anything, you’ve probably helped her not act like this with anyone else in the future.

  5. Blimey. Good for you!

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