An Outbreak of Stupidity

I usually like going to Whole Foods.  That wasn't how I felt today.

I managed to find a cart without a napkin or a crumpled wax paper wrap or a tissue wedged in the corner.  

The produce section is under construction and nothing was where it was supposed to be.  

There was a mass of humanity blocking every aisle.  No one was touching the fruits or veggies.  They were just standing there, talking, making it impossible for me to reach the tarragon and the shallots.  When I finally got to them, the shallots were buried beneath discarded skins.  

There was no broccolini.

There was a poodle, on a leash, without any indication that he was a service animal.  Just a dog, out for a walk in my grocery store.  His human had him on a long leash.  This was not conducive to the smooth locomotion of carts.

The fresh pizza was congealed, frightening, and suspicious looking.  I turned toward the newly displayed pre-sliced packs of turkey breast as a more viable option to bring home for lunch.  The woman who placed them was being very precise and I admired her dedication to the task.

They offer two kinds, smoked and oven baked.  The distinctions are marked on the labels, which the worker bee had placed face down in the cold box.  In order to figure out what was where, I had to turn over package after package.  They weren't in any real order.

At the checkout lane (I avoid the self check outs when humans are available), a group of 5 adult men who should have known better were chatting up a storm.  They weren't checking out.  They were talking, standing in a loose, large circle, completely blocking the two open lanes. They were happy to move once I wondered aloud if they were in line, but what were they doing there in the first place?

The parking lot is a nightmare.  Avoiding being sideswiped is barely possible.  Today was no exception, with someone careening into the lane the UV and I were occupying, not thinking that another car might actually be on the road.  

My shocked face was visible through our open windows.  His unrepeatable comment was totally unwarranted.  Unlike him,  I had stopped to check the intersection before barreling through.  

I spent a few minutes wondering what kind of new car I'd get to replace the one I wish he had totalled. Then the light changed and I fled the scene.