Five Minutes

"Did you hear what she said to me?! Say it again, I dare you. No, go on, say it. SAY IT AGAIN."

That's what I said, all of that, to a woman who'd made a remark on how long it was taking me to write a check. That, you know, I was holding up the line. Reasonable grumbles. She now gawked at me, not sure whether I was joking or not. How could anyone be that ridiculous?

I allowed another moment of said gawking before I grabbed her face with my free hand, barking more demands for her to repeat herself. Only for effect, not because I actually wanted her to repeat herself.

"I---I-------I wuzh jush shaying it wuzh takeen a li'l long for you to write yer check out." That was what she sounded like, with her cheeks pinched together.

"What, you can't wait forty-five seconds? Jesus, who the hell do you think you are?" I wasn't calling her Jesus. I was cursing, you see.

The woman now began to drool on my hand. She didn't mean to; it didn't matter. I dropped the pen occupying my other hand, and let go of her face with my left hand just long enough for her to reach up and gingerly paw at her sore cheeks. Then I slapped her. She let out a startled cry, and punched me in the stomach. I began to wail.

I said this: "Ooooooooh my baby! Oh GOD my poor baby! Oh you bitch! I will kill you, I swear I will, I'll show you the ultrasound pictures and then I'll give you a papercut in both your eyes so the last thing you would have seen was my baby you just punched! I swear to GOD I'll KILL YOU!"

I went on like that for about two minutes. Security came and escorted me out of the shopping center, asking if I wanted to file a police report. Once I was out of hearing distance and eyeshot of those in the store I'd been in, I stopped wailing and said, "No thank you." I straightened up and walked away. Enough fun for one day.