I spent most of the day yesterday at the drugstore waiting at the end of a very long line to get my stuff rung up. After waiting for what it seems like eternity, I was finally next in line to purchase, but as soon as I was about to set my things down, the cashier lady quickly slammed a mustard yellow sign down that read:

CLOSED.

PLEASE GO TO THE NEXT CASHIER

Astonished, I turned around to see the reaction on other people’s face but nobody was behind me. I was the last person in line who waited the longest only to get rejected by a CLOSED sign. I stood there, just lifelessly, waiting for the cashier lady to say, “Oh I can take you since you’re the last person.”

…but no. In fact, she did the worse. She pretended I wasn’t there. I read the sign once more, then looked around to see if anybody was laughing at me, and looked at her again. No eye contact whatsoever, she was staring at the monitor.

Before the situation could get even more awkward, I quickly got over it and followed what the sign had ordered me to do: go to the next cashier.

The line wasn’t long compared to the first one since there were two people already before me. And boy, did it take forever…again. The customer who was at the beginning of the line had a shit ton of items and I believe one of their stuff needed a price check. The second customer, the one right in front me, holy shit, didn’t know how to count change or something, so he was standing there, all fucking afternoon, counting change over and over again.

As I was waiting, looking fidgety as ever ’cause I was tempted to count the change for him, the same cashier lady decided to wake up and be a freakin’ blowjob.  That’s right, she’s a gaddamn blowjob and I don’t like her.  What she did was she removed her hideous mustard barf yellow sign and said to the man waiting behind me, “You know what, I can take one more person, why don’t I take care of your stuff sir.”

I swear Ima kill somebody.

Feeling aggravated and a little hurt, I mumbled to myself, “Ughh…you gotta be fucking kidding me.”

The slow-counting change guy turns around and gives me a stubborn look as he’s counting the numbers quietly.  He then looks at the first half of his change and combines it with the other half.  Then I realized what I had mumbled had disrupted his concentration which lead him to start all over again.

Perfect.