so... those of you that don't know...
i am a heavy smoker.
yes... yes i am. not too heavy... just heavy enough to smoke about a pack a day.
which is cool with me... could be worse.
but this also means that because i don't buy cartons... i have to go to the store and get a pack of cigarettes every day.
it's a nice little trip out of the house... since i work from home.
i always go to the same place too... a little convenience store down the road about five minutes.
one of the guys there is awesome... he's constantly begging me to go to atlantic city with him and blah blah blah...
but the guy with the moustache... fuck that guy.
so i walk into the store... the cat pulls my pack of smokes off of the shelf... without me having to say a fucking word... and then asks me for my id.
of course i don't have my id... it's in chris' wallet... because my boyfriend is a dumbass and forgot to take it out of there from the other night when we went out.
now... as i stated... i didn't even have to tell him what kind of smokes i wanted... which is a big deal when you smoke marlboro red seventy twos... (yes they are different from standard reds... they taste like yum... reds taste like aborted fetus) obviously the mother fucker has seen me before.
so i tell him that i don't have it with me... and i give him my birthdate... just in case he needs to pop it into the computer.
nope... not good enough for this jack ass and his moustache from hell...
"i'm sorry miss... but i can't serve you"
in his baderkaderk accent.
"motherfucker" i say out loud.
"i am here every day! you didn't even ask me what i needed!" i exclaimed, loudly.
i'm not used to this shit.
i am charasmatic... overly charasmatic... people fucking LOVE me. they can't get enough of me. they beg me to fucking shop at their shit stores.
uh uh... not this bastard. this bastard wants to play ball... and right now... his bases are loaded, and my bat boy forgot to give me my god damn license back... douchebag
so i STORM out of the joint... furious.
i then get back in my car... and travel to the liquor store that is at the END OF MY BLOCK.
that's right... the fucking liquor store. they don't have my cigarettes... but they have reds.
and i know for a fact that they won't card me... why? because they have never once carded me for anything.
they thought about it once... asked me how old i was... told me i looked to young... and STILL let me buy the sixer of guiness and bottle of patron i desired.
fuck you convenience store... i will set you a-flame.
//end rant//
