You’re the impatient grocery shopper behind me who can’t wait until I’m done unloading my cart to start unloading yours. You jump behind me in the checkout line and immediately drop the divider to start franticly piling your frozen Hungry-Man dinners and liters of soda on the conveyor while I’m not even close to being done taking stuff out of my cart. I’m stressing out as I watch the divider and my personal space get closer and closer to the end. Back up, wait until the people in front of you are done unloading their groceries, and they’ll drop the divider for you. Your Hungry-Man dinners aren’t defrosting yet.
Send anonymous thanks, confessions or accusations—changing or deleting the names of the guilty and innocent—to
le*****@oc******.com
.
