Last weekend I ventured out to the Dirty-B to do a little grocery shopping (code name for the nasty HEB by my house, where at any given point in time, I'm probably best looking person in there, not to mention the only little white girl. And that's on a day where I haven't showered and I'm still in my pajamas.). I hate the place with a passion, and to go on Superbowl weekend does not help matters. Last weekend it was full of NFL fans (that's the only way I know how to describe them without saying something I shouldn't) in their sweat pants. The Walmart kind, with the elastic at the bottom. You know what I'm talking about.
It was quite entertaining.... from the screaming children to the arguing couple in the deli meat aisle fighting over which package of pre-sliced preservative-filled ham they should buy. He didn't understand why she didn't like it, and he wouldn't let it go. He had to know why. That very moment. And as I was passing, the crazy woman yelled out, "I DON'T KNOW WHY I DON'T LIKE IT. WHY DON'T YOU LIKE BEETS, HUH??"
Anywho, I'm checking out and I hear a loud crash in my cart, so I turn my head quickly to see what it was. And I see the 16 year old bagger turn to her BFF, the checker, and say "Girl, did you see that? She's mad at me."
I assume she's talking about me, so I politely step in and say, "excuse me?"
Bagger: "Yeah, I saw that look you gave me. It's not like I broke anything."
Me: "I'm sorry, but I don't think I gave you a look."
Bagger: "Uh, yeah you did. I just saw you!"
Seriously? Did I just get called out by a 16 year old sassy kid that works at the Dirty-B?
I think I did.