Let me shoot my malice in your face.
So, I drive 40 minutes down to Robinson Town Centre. This land of suburban sprawl, mini-malls, and superstores always brings out the worst in me.
The roads are an impenetrable maze. You see your destination off in the distance beckoning to you like a tempting mirage and as you try to get to it you are blocked by little barriers of concrete and islands of grass. How do people navigate in this mess of traffic and strange road layouts?
The reason I was down here was to purchase a bunch of furniture. I went into the IKEA furniture store. Fucking IKEA. The only reason I am buying all of my furniture from your store is because I like one of your couches and I don?t want to pay delivery fees for a bunch of stores. Why in the hell do you name your stuff with Swedish names? I?m not Swedish, I?m American. When I look at a mattress that is called the ?Hemnes? model or a couch that is called the ?Ektorp? I want to wretch all over the floor (which is what I almost did as I looked at 90% of your stuff which is pretentious post-modern particle board crap). We should invade Sweden and shoot wads of particle board at these minimalist Aryan freaks.
And guess what? I got to IKEA 10 fucking minutes before they closed so I was not able to get hardly any shopping or purchasing done. I talked to an employee there who says that I need to personally pick up all of the small stuff that I wanted (CD shelf, coffee table, etc?) . Bitch, you can?t just deliver the small stuff with my big stuff (couch, bed, dresser, etc?)? How fucking hard would it be to throw that shit on the delivery truck? As I spoke to her I struggled to make eye contact because she had so much eye liner on that I thought a mouse had shit in her eyebrows. As I exited the store I fantasized about throwing the fake turkey that was in one of the kitchen areas at her.
And then I needed to go get gas. I drive up towards where I see a gas station. Of course, the intersection that I approach has a gazillion lanes and I don?t know which one I need to get into in order to get to the gas station that is 50 feet away from me. I end up sprawled across two lanes. There was a guy in a Chrysler PT Cruiser in front of me. These cars are SO FUCKING STUPID. Who would want to drive one of these things? Do you think you?re Al Capone in that lame piece of derivative crap? I honked at him to move up just a few feet to let me in so I could get out of the other lane so I would not be in people?s way. This guy did not move an inch. You fucking asshole! Move your goddamn car! Why am I not allowed to have a missile launcher on my car? WHY??? I would have incinerated that stupid fucking car and the douche bag that was inside of it.
I then went to a grocery store. This grocery store was an uppity suburban grocery store that had nice tile floors and organic food. Not that this healthy food would do the women I saw in there any good. I was surrounded by obese soccer moms who probably have bland suburban lives and ?2.5 kids?. How they drag those cellulite-ridden monstrosities that they call asses up into those $40,000 SUV?s with heated leather bucket seats is beyond me. When I went to checkout I ended up in one of those new-fangled ?Self-checkout lanes? where you scan your own stuff. I followed the instructions and the thing still fucked up and started repeating, ?Please wait for assistance?Please wait for assistance?. Why make stuff like this if somebody has to come over and fix it when it fucks up?
And now that I am home I have to listen to my upstairs neighbor vaccuum. Her apartment is tiny and she vacuums at least five times a day. She also walks as loudly as a sasquatch would as she moves from one side of the apartment to the other.
I?m just an angry and bitter little man.
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