I Can Be So Pissy

I can be so pissy and judgemental. I try to live and let live, but it's hard sometimes. Even when I know I am passing judgement, I can't help it.

I was in the supermarket today in the vegetable section. The green bean bin was full. But the beans looked rather...mottled. A big, slovenly man stood in front of the bin, picking over the beans. Here's the judgement: If I were to identify which of the shoppers were on welfare, I would have picked him. He picked up the beans one after another and threw most back down, keeping only the healthier looking ones. I thought, My god, why doesn't he climb a beanstalk to choose his beans.

I looked the batch over. Not liking what I saw on top, I dug my hand in the batch and pulled out the beans from the bottom. They were very good looking beans under. So I scooped up what I needed and left. As I was doing this, the man had stopped moving and stared at me the whole time. I could sense him turning around and watching me as I left. My thought was, You creepy looking guy. Instead of fingering all the beans, why didn't you just dig up the better looking ones at the bottom, or didn't you think of doing that.

I passed back his way shortly after. He was still standing at the beans. This time, he's taking the beans I had pulled up from the bottom and snapping the ends off each before putting the beans in his bag. I thought, This is a very slow man and not very bright. But smart enough to know he doesn't want to pay for the ends of the beans because that's like paying for refuse. But it doesn't mean he should leave his garbage for other shoppers to sort through. So he's dumb, poor and self-centred. It's people like him who make supermarkets pre-package all their produce. But what's with the supermarket dumping bad beans on top of good ones to force customers to pick through them? It's like one wrong leads to another.

After clearing the cash, several people were stalled under the supermarket's awning, afraid to run to their cars because it was pouring rain. Two fat young women with dyed hair were hugging their shopping bags and whining loudly about the rain. I had parked far from the exit, closer to the garden centre. When the rain lightened for a sec, I made a run for the car. Five minutes later, as I drove by the supermarket exit, the rain had stopped. The two whining women crossed the road to their car. It was parked right in front of the exit! It would have taken them less than 10 steps. By young women, I mean they were adults, probably mothers, certainly old enough to drive. So what was with the whining?

Sometimes, it's so hard not to pass judgement.