
So I was trying on clothes at Abercrombie&Fitch when a worker told me to leave.
“Why?” I asked. “Am I not beautiful, young, or thin enough to try on these pants?”
“You have to use the fitting room sir,” they replied. “You’re exposing your penis.”

So I was trying on clothes at Abercrombie&Fitch when a worker told me to leave.
“Why?” I asked. “Am I not beautiful, young, or thin enough to try on these pants?”
“You have to use the fitting room sir,” they replied. “You’re exposing your penis.”

I’m a hermit. I don’t go out into public for shit.
Grocery shopping? That’s why god made Amazon.
Gas stations? My car got repossessed. Checkmate Big Oil!
But I went inside a Cracker Barrel today. Probably for the first time in years.
I’m always intrigued by how we equate our freedom with being able to consume products. It’s just one of the many absurdities in modern life.
But my approach to customer service is always purely transactional. I don’t expect to be tugged off. I don’t even expect eye contact.
Customer service is always underpaid and undervalued and I just want to make your job easier because you don’t want to be there as much as I don’t want to be there. It always amazes that there’s jackasses out there that don’t understand this.
So I went into Cracker Barrel to pick up my meal because I refuse to eat with the dirty, filthy masses. It was supposed to be brought out to my car (that got temporarily unposessessed, of course, just so I could pick up this meal) but the check-in app wasn’t working and no one was answering the phone.
So I walked in and some old fart was flirting it up with the 19 year old cashier just trying to pay the bills while his kids were running around and fucking shit up. I said “hey buddy! This is Cracker Barrel! If waitresses wanted you to hit on them then this would be a Denny’s!”. Then I swung my foot into his penis.
I really wish people would learn how to behave in public smh 🤦♂️

If there’s a hell, it’s an AutoZone.
I was raising Cain up and down the aisles when an employee came up to me.
“Can I help you sir?”
“Look asshole,” I said. “I need a ball joint. Some spark plugs. Some sea foam. A battery. A rear view mirror. Two 15 inch rims. And no I will not wear a mask!”
“But sir, this is the Los Angeles Community Hospital.”