These Are the Assholes in My Neighborhood*

It’s been a rough month out there in the neighborhood. I don’t know if it’s the economy or gearing up for the holidays or what. But there are a lot of assholes out there. And they’re pissing me off.  Here’s my current list:

• Judgey grocery store cashiers who eye my ponytail and yoga pants with judgey judgment. Dude—I’m here, aren’t I? Buying food and supplies for my family? Keeping us nourished and healthy? (Never you mind that case of wine.)
• Moms who dress up for Back-to-School night (or any other nighttime function) like they’re going out on the town. (I’ll give you a pass if you’re single and looking for another single parent.) But, otherwise, come on. This isn’t a beauty pageant, and no grades are riding on your appearance. I mean, I may have sniffed my armpits before I entered the classroom, but that’s about it.
• Rude people to baristas. You condescending, picky bitches. It’s coffee for criminy sakes. They make a lot of it. And, let’s face it, your order was so ridiculous I’m not sure you could even repeat it. Lay off the barista.
• Solicitors. All of yous. Read the fucking sign and go away. What? You’re not selling anything? Look up the word solicit in the dictionary: “[to] ask for or try to obtain (something) from someone.” You can’t have my money, my signature, or my soul. (Believe me, I sold that a long time ago.) Go. The. Fuck. Away.
• My sciatic nerve. That fucker just can’t leave me alone. All I’m trying to do is walk Ziggy the Dog. It would be nice if I could do so without excruciating pain running down my ass through my legs and into my feet. Fuck you.
• People who don’t return shopping carts to the shopping cart return area. How hard is it to walk across the parking lot to return the cart that YOU BORROWED. Your abandoned cart is now blocking parking spaces, killing plants, or dinging cars. I hate you.
• The grocery store cashier who doesn’t card me. Or worse—the ones that “ma’ams” me. Haven’t you learned to card every woman in the world? And call her “Miss?” If not, go back to training. I swear you will get more tips, more compliments, more everything if you pretend with us—just for a little while.
• The fundraiser pitch person at school. God damn you. You did your job so well that my kids now want (me) to sell the ENTIRE catalog to earn that pile of cheap, crappy shit you call awards. So now I have to buy crap in order to earn crap for my kids. Awesome.

In completely unrelated news, I got my period this morning.

*So I don’t punch anyone in the face, I just walk away and sing, “These are the assholes in my neighborhood” to the tune of Sesame Street’s “People in Your Neighborhood.” It’s surprisingly calming.