Gallon of Milk

All I wanted was a gallon of milk.

This lady has fifty items. I am not sure if that is the exact number, but my brain is beyond comprehending the quantity of crap in that cart; I checked out after the first ten minutes standing in this line. I do believe she is preparing for a nuclear winter; all these canned foods, fresh water, some items for a healthier diet… mixed in with ice cream, flavored chips, and what I assume to be a tub of lard. Or maybe that’s just her gut. I couldn’t really tell whether she was a woman or a beached whale when I first saw her, but there ya go.

Ahead of her is a man who needs cigarettes. It seems the cashier cannot give him his desired brand, however. Still, he insists that he came in yesterday and bought a whole box of cigarettes; that the store had been fully stocked with them, and he doesn’t understand how they could have gone through all those boxes in just one day. Personally, I don’t understand how, having gone through a whole box of cigarettes by himself in one day, he still has functioning lungs, but there ya go.

Behind me is a lady with five children. Maybe one hundred. That little boy with the baseball cap keeps stepping on the back of my shoe; I swear it’s on purpose. Now he’s begging his mother for a candy bar. The other little demons say they also must have a candy bar; if they don’t get one, it will be the end of the universe. Mother tells them all to shut the hell up, or their father will deal with them when he gets home. A few seconds later, she adds five chocolate bars to her shopping cart, followed by five bottles of soda, five bags of chips, and five instructions on how to construct a home made bomb. Making a threat and immediately relenting afterward seems detrimental to the development of your child, but there ya go.

How much time do we lose on this crap? How much time do we spend waiting for lights to turn green? How much time do we spend trapped between a sweaty mouth-breather and a creepy old man glaring into our soul, while waiting in line at the city’s electric company building, waiting to pay our bill? How much time do we spend on activities that eat away bits of our soul? Do we even begin to comprehend how much time has passed since extremely hot gasses exploded, sending hydrogen and helium out to form nebulas that would later collapse into stars, which in turn would produce from nuclear fusion the different molecules that would form our planet, and ourselves? We can’t begin to comprehend how the emptiness of space is comparable to the emptiness of our souls… but there ya go.

…and I have not gotten any closer to the check out. This milk is not worth it.