Seiously?  Just a coffee and groceries please!

So I finally decided to pull out my scale, and for whatever reason I decided to step on the lying son of a bitch. Jeez Louise what an epic train wreck. So right after I got off of the suicide prevention hot line and stopped crying. I needed some peace, quiet and some alone time to search my soul and possibly kick myself in the ass for not looking like I still did when I was 25 (I mean thats realisitic right?) So I went grocery shopping. I realize most people would rather stab themselves in the jugular than grocery shop but I dont mind it. Especially to Harris Teeter because I can get a coffee and drink it while I shop.  Its a one stop shop in my opinion. I find a good parking spot and jump out of my car ready for my coffee and relaxing shopping experience. I order my all time favorite low-calorie, no sugar, caramel macchiato (of course unless they have an awesome seasonal coffee). This is when I decide that Starbuck’s employees must get bonuses rated on a scale of 1 to Bitch Slap in regards to how badly they can annoy a customer with a shit storm of questions.

“What can I get started for you?”

“I would love a Caramel Macchiato lite, no whip and no sweetener.” See- I am pretty sure I just covered all of the information they needed.

“Would you like the syrup added?”

“No thank you, no sugar. Please.”

“It tastes better with an extra pump of chocolate!”

WTF! Which part of lite are you missing. Do I LOOK like I need EXTRA chocolate? My fucking scale needs therapy from this morning’s weigh in and bitch attack and you want to offer me more fat for my ass. Excellent, douche canoe, now I will definitely need that suicide prevention line on speed dial. But I say with a smile, “No. No thank you. I would not like any sugar, syrup, chocolate or any extra other ass expanding ingredients added.”

Barista laughs, “Oh that is so funny!” Bitch, I am not laughing. I am about to cross over from Very Happy to Get a Caramel Macchiato Lite and become your worst nightmare AKA as Fuck Suicide, I’d Rather Go to Jail for Punching You in the Puss bone. Now blend my coffee before an epic bitch battle breaks out here in your shiny hipster infested lobby. M’kay? It looks like my irritable, evil eye look has delivered the appropriate message, perhaps I will now get my coffee so I can go shopping and be happy.

“Did you want whipped cream? I always put extra!”

Seriously? Really?  Ok Ok, I will not kill her. I will not kill her. I will not kill her.  I have to say it to my self several times to return from this sea of red I have just been thrown into.

”No. Thank. Youuuu.” Just give me my freakin coffee, Jeez Louise!

Life sentence in prison averted and coffee in hand, I walk back to the grocery store and wrestle my cart out of the tangled mess at the door. I strap in my purse, get out my list and pen and look for all things green, leafy, healthy and on the perimeter of the store. Things are going awesome, I am calming down and starting to have big hopes and dreams about this being a calming experience while I sip on my delicious coffee. And then they appeared. A screaming, fighting, back talking bunch of out of control bratty minions with oblivious parental units ignoring their bad behavior! I guess as long as the brats are bothering anyone but them , it’s okay. Wouldn’t you know it, this would be the day that I don’t have my tazer or Xanax with me so I quickly move on to the next aisle. More of them there. I look at my watch,  and am thinking is it five or something? Why are there so many freakin people here in the grocery store screwing up my chi?Where did my calming shopping trip go? Then I get the ah ha moment, awww Fuck me! It’s the 15th and everyone just got paid and there will soon be a WWF smack down match going on by the meal deals and Little Debbie snack cakes! There will be no peace. No quiet. But that trip to jail is starting to look like a strong possibility.