Have you ever noticed that whenever you're in line at the grocery store, and there's an old person waiting in front of you, they always have to make some sort of racial slur to the cashier? Like, "here's your money, you chink," or "fuck you, towel-head." I mean, what's the deal? Take it easy, you're just buying some milk -- can't you go five minutes without offending someone? Sometimes the cashier is white! Man, I don't get old people.
But don't even get me started on the supermarket. Tell me if this has ever happened to you: you're at the deli, you order a coupla hundred grams of finely sliced pastrami, when you notice the guy operating the slicer accidentally takes a layer off his thumb. You know what I mean. But does he stop and pick the sliced-off flesh out of your order? Or even seek some medical attention? No way. It's like he's a government operative paid to slice that meat and get you the hell outta there. Don't you feel the searing pain buddy? I mean, who is this guy?
But you know I love being married. A lot of guys will complain, and I will too, but mostly it's great. Women put up with the most amazingly stupid things we do. Like guys: have you ever been pouring a beer or something at home, accidentally spill some on the floor, and then instead of grabbing a mop and cleaning it up, you smash the bottle over your head and then just lie there bleeding on the floor? You know, 'cause you figure rather than take the heat for spilled beer, you'll at least get some sympathy when she finds you lying face down in a pile of broken glass, beer and blood. God, men do the craziest things.
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