The Other Customer

The fucks who think nothing of their kids being allowed to run riot, alone, in a supermarket. When I was a kid I'd always wander off and gaze at shit on the shelves to pass the time, but not once did I do a solo screaming bombing run down the centre aisle, leaving a trail of destruction behind me.

The fucks who let their kids whip out the handhelds in a restaurant. The notion of being allowed to read at the table was something completely fucking alien to me way back then.

The decrepit old fucks on the bus who wheeze like a dying Landy when they talk and liberally use the word "cunt" as punctuation. Yeah, thank fuck I no longer take that route.

The fucks who go into independent coffee shops and order a Venti Dolce Pianissimo Machiatto Starfucksia Deliciosso With Double Seven-Shot Diet Skinniness.

The fucks who listen to 16kbps Dizzy Rascal mp3s on their phones at full blast when riding trains.

And lastly: the fucks who go to Subway not knowing what they want, need the differences between the various breads and sandwiches explained to them by the employee behind the counter, wait for said employee to ask if they want each salad ingredient one-by-one and then spend upwards of a minute counting out exact change in coppers to pay for their goddamned sub.

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It's rude because the places I'm talking about are the type of joint where you can order a big coffee or a small coffee and not much else. Hearing people using garbage Starbucks lingo everywhere is fairly irritating.

There's nowhere I can't reach.