I played basketball today and realized I was extremely hungry. I dipped into Gourmet Garage to buy something to eat. I didn’t know what I wanted, so I roamed aimlessly around until I found something.
Luckily, The cheese department had five platters of cheese cubes with a cup of toothpicks.
Famished, I plucked out a cube and bit it off the end of the toothpick. I sucked off the lingering smokey flavor that seemed infused into the wood. Still starving, I went to the next tray, then the next, then the next and finally hit the last tray and felt a pang of guilt for eating so much cheese for free. Then out of nowhere, some Botoxed Upper Eastsider bitch felt she needed to teach me some manners.
Another woman pushed her cart directly in between the Upper Eastsider Bitch and me. She was shocked by my expletive statement. I told her the dialogue I had exchanged with the crazy lady. Fortunately, she agreed with me (but I suspect she wanted an easy out of the situation) Then I proceeded to talk to each person and stated my case. Oddly, everyone agreed with me. I realize now that I probably scared everyone I encountered.
The paradox of calling someone a “fucking lunatic” to everyone who walks by because that particular person didn’t like how you ate cheese makes you look like a “fucking lunatic”.
