Dear little old lady who was in line behind me yesterday,
Pushing your cart right into my hips does NOT make me pay and pack my things faster. Because I refuse to give in to anybody who thinks that pushing his (or her, for that matter) cart into another person's hip will do any good.
In fact, it made me angry. You might not have noticed that I had to pay with my card, which also means that I have to sign. There was a reason I didn't go straight to packing my things. I had to sigh that damn bill first. And I needed that little plastic table thing to do that. You know that one I could hardly reach because you kept pushing your goddamn cart into my still young hips.
You might or might not have noticed that whatever you were trying to make me do, it did not happen. Because I won't have myself controlled by little old ladies who push their cart into other nice people's hips. It actually even hurts. Yes.
So, please stop it. Nothing good will ever - I repeat: EVER - come out of it. Nothing but people shaking their heads in disbelief at what you were trying to accomplish. Like I did.
In a very generous and nearly forgiving mood,
the girl with the bruise on her hip.
