Boo!

AAAAhhh!

Did I scare you?

It's me, don't worry. I'm back after months and months of going out in the world and doing basically nothing.

Seriously...nothing.

So, since I have nothing to say about me, here is the story of the man who freaked the fuck out in the middle of the grocery store near my work.

Just to give you an adequate picture: The heads of lettuce are on the left wall, the bags of lettuce are on the aisle facing that wall. I am stationed in the middle, near the tomatoes, but don't get caught up on that because nobody in this story buys tomatoes because for some strange ass reason tomatoes are now a batrillion dollars.

Anyway, here we go.

Me (inside my head because I am not quite the scary talking to herself lady...yet): Is there anything in this world less attractive than a man with a ponytail? Especially this fool with one that reaches his...well, I'll just say it...his behind. It is horrifically icky and wrong and stringy. Nothing should ever be stringy. Under the definition of "stringy" there should be a note. It should look like this: Note: All things stringy are bad and should immediately be discarded...or cut off. We're talking to you stringy pony tail men. Love, Merriam & Webster.

Companion of Stringy (speaking to Stringy who is by the heads of lettuce): Oh, I found the bags of spinach over here. They have bags of spinach and they're over here. They're over here and they're two for four dollars. I found the bags of spinach over here. They have them over here in the bag...and it's spinach...and it's two for four dollars. And then I found the spinach.

Stringy (not quietly): WHAT ARE THEY FIVE DOLLARS A BAG? ARE THEY FIVE DOLLARS A FUCKING BAG? I'LL BET THEY'RE FIVE DOLLARS A BAG?!

Everyone in store: What the...

Me: I am about to start laughing and he is going to turn around and he is going to kill me. Yes, I see the woman I work with trying to make eye contact with me so we can laugh but he is right here so I definitely should not. If nothing else happens, I will live.

Lettuce Head #1: Dudes, this asshole is squeezing me like super tight.

Lettuce Head #2: Don't worry, I have an idea. These fuckers HATE it when we do this. Follow me, boys!!!!

Lettuce Head #3, #4, #5: Yeeeeeeeeee-haaaaaaaaawwwwwwwwwww

Stringy: Aw, fuck. Fuck FUCK FUUUUUUCCCCCCCCKKKKKKKKKK!!!!

Companion of Stringy: Did you know that they have spinach over in the bag and that it's two for....what's going on?

Me: Wow. I was really doing well until he dropped all the lettuce heads on the floor. And then he picked them up. And oh, look, there they go again!!!! This is where I die. Because she is one side and he is on the other and my hands are full and there is no way to cover my face and oh thank god the woman I work with is done and we can get out of this aisle unscathed...but wait...is he?...what is he doing?

Stringy: THANKS A LOT, MARLENE! YOU SEE ME OVER HERE LOOKING LIKE A FUCKING ASSHOLE WITH THE LETTUCE AND YOU DON'T EVEN HELP ME, MARLENE. THANK YOU, MARLENE. THANK YOU FOR MAKING ME LOOK LIKE A FUCKING ASSHOLE OVER HERE BY THE LETTUCE.

At this point, Stringy lifts three heads of lettuce up over his head, takes a step backward, and then runs full-speed at the lettuce basket and slams them down.

Lettuce #2 (he's the total badass of this story): You MOTHERFUCKER! Now I am BROKEN. My LEAVES now are SEPARATED from whatever my BOTTOM part is called. GET HIMMMMMMMMMMMMM!!!!!!!

Lettuce#1: Get the shoes, boys, get the shoes!!!!!!

Lettuce, #3, #4, #5: We got you, fool. We. Got. You!!!

Now at this point, I have taken all I can take from Stringy and the Gang and I am walking away as Stringy's language skills and mental faculties deteriorate and my co-worker and I discuss whether we should call security. And then I hear:

Companion of Stringy: You made me leave my PURSE over in the CART, Brye-in (I assume his name is Brian but she said it super-strange)

Stringy: No, Marlene, YOU DID

Companion of Stringy: YOU DID

Stringy (stomping his feet, I swear to god): NO, MARLENE, YOU FUCKING DID!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

Lettuce#2: Ah, boys he got me. His left moccasin has mashed me. I am gone. Warn the spinach...whatever...you...do....warn...the........spina....(dies)

Lettuce#1, #3, #4, #5: Fucking pony tails, man. Fucking. Pony. Tails.