Ever have repeated run-ins with one major goob while at the grocery store? You know the kind I mean...kind of stupid, kind of oblivious, kind of really super annoying?! Apparently, goobs are in their element at the grocery store, and it's just my luck to have run into one during a quick jaunt to the corner market today.
First, he nearly nicked me with his cart, because apparently, my wide frame was outside his range of peripheral vision and he couldn't see me, being all of 16 inches away from him. No apologies from the goob once he realized his faux pas either. Typical.
Then, a few aisles down, I see a shopping cart sitting unattended in the middle of the typically-too-narrow grocery store aisle. It was positioned cockeyed in the center, so that there was no room for anyone to maneuver past it. And just as I'm wondering to whom the aisle-blocking barrier belonged, I look up to see Mr. Goob, standing ten feet away, perusing the chips and dip selections. He was completely oblivious to the fact that three people had to change course to bypass his basket blockade; either that or he thinks he owns the store and can park his cart wherever he pleases. Either way though, he's still a goob for having left it there in the first place.
I finished grabbing my goodies for the taco dinner I had planned for this evening, and headed for the "express" lane, which we all know has about as much validity as "fast food" does at the drive-through.
But anyhoots, I get in line, look up, and guess who's ahead of me? Uh-huh: good ole Goob. Does he bother to place the plastic bar behind his order to separate it from mine? No. But what he does do is become fascinated with the credit card swiping machine, and the fact that it is on a base that can spin all the way around. He looks befuddled as the cashier (stifling a chuckle herself) explains to him that it swivels so that she can see it, to assist customers if need be. Sheesh. It's not rocket science, fella. Neither is the fact that he has to sign the machine for his pending credit card purchase, which seems to really confuse him. But he manages to close the deal and be on his merry goob way.
Finally, thinking I am free of the whole goob experience, I get checked out and head to my car...but not before the goob manages to speed past me in his circa 2002 Pontiac Grand Prix in the parking lot, and a little too close for comfort in doing so.
Reasonable Facsimile of the Goob's Car
What is WITH this goob anyway?! Pedestrians have the right of way, last time I checked, and he in no way made any effort to yield to the pedestrian (me, of course) in his path. And thus, that annoying idiot went from goob to A-hole, in my book, in one swift shot!
He turned down the same row as my vehicle was parked in, just as I was unlocking the driver's side door. I glanced at my car, a 2007 Pontiac Grand Prix, and then back at his, and I had to laugh. All I could think was, yeah, Goob, this is what a REAL Grand Prix looks like. Immature, I do confess. But hell, what else have you got when your opponent is a grocery store goob? If nothing else, I left there knowing that my Grand Prix could kick his Grand Prix's ass. And that he would always, forever more, be a goob.
Reasonable Facsimile of My Car
Now I've gotta cook some tacos!
