I almost killed someone today. But I can't be blamed, they totally had it coming.
Most mornings, when I have the car and some extra time, I'll get a half sandwich, some fruit a cookie and a drink from the Co-Op for my work-time feedings. When I got in line, the cashier, an evil, elderly gentleman who, several months ago, I had a conversation about Cliff Bars with, saw me and recognized me. He then picked up the rubber-grocery-delineator from the front of my groceries and placed in between my drink and my cookie, separating the fruit and sandwich. Mother Fucker.
It took all I had to not throttle him.
Then when I got back to the car, I began to eat my sandwich, saw it had too much mustard and started to cry.
