Losing My Own Personal Cold War

The world seems to be going to Hades in a howitzer. We have the looming specter of nuclear winters, climate expanded summers and a ubiquitous fall from grace in the United States of Twitter.

So why shouldn’t I rail on fucking cart attendants?

Namely, my man Robert. And if you ain’t down with the snark in that sentence, you ain’t read my last love letter to this asshole. You can find it here, but be warned that you will never get back those three minutes of your life. And you’ll never see cart attendants the same way again. Just kidding, we all see cart attendants the same way, don’t we? They’re fucking cart attendants . . they attend to carts. And they’re ain’t nothing wrong with that, but don’t be selling their profession as some kind of Shakespeare novella, ayt?

I guess I’m really not as different as I like to think I am. Because for all the times I grimace at those peeps who need to be liked, it seems I got me some of that DNA as well. I mean, I don’t give a great good fuck if you don’t like me. In fact, I’m plenty coo with it, because let’s face it . . that shit is interesting. If a person doesn’t like me, there’s always this little voice in my head (He sounds like Hugh Jackman) who’s  like Look at you! All hated . . . you must be some King Shit! 

Of course, the feeling is transient and more unstable than a third world bank. After which Hugh Jackman voice is summarily kicked to the curb by Samuel Jackson voice, who says something like Bitch! Get that weak ass shit outta here! King Shit my ass! After which I curse myself for not having any bourbon in my crib.

So it happened again yesterday. More evidence that Robert is fucking with my head. There I was, walking into my local grocer while Robert stood guard at the door, greeting every single fucking person who passed by. As I approached the automatic doors, I checked my phone for no other reason than I didn’t want Robert to think I gave a fuck that he was about to ignore my ass yet again.

Maybe I put too much thought into these interactions, or lack thereof . . I dunno.

Of course, all that chirp ceased as I moved to the doors. Evidently, I am the bubonic plague when it comes to his ability to construct basic sentences. So get this, I smile at a text my pal Q sent me . . . last week. That’ll teach you Robert, you pretentious piece of shit! I got a life that doesn’t need your hello . . bitch.

But nah, Robert wasn’t content with radio silence. Because just as I’m breaching the entrance, he greets someone else. I turn to find the recipient of a hello not named Marc’s and I gotta say . . wow. This Robert asshole is good. Because the other end of his greeting is in a car . . driving . . through the parking lot.

So Robert basically yodeled to this individual a half block away, after which he proceeded to have a conversation with him. Meanwhile, yours truly who is standing punching distance away from him gets some more of the Bruce Willis treatment. And now it’s quite evident to me that I’m playing checkers and Robert is playing chess.

Maybe he’s got more Shakespeare than I’m giving him credit for.

67 thoughts on “Losing My Own Personal Cold War”

  1. B,

    I canna lie… I am rolling on the floor laughing right now. I know EXACKERY what you are talking about… this war that has never been officially declared but is on-going between you and the Robert through no official territory delineation has been determined. The battle is ON!
    Wonder what you did (unknowingly, of course) for him to diss you so blatantly?
    Oh, and my pleasure for giving you an excuse to smile at your phone instead of Robert…. 😉

    Laughing and commiserating,
    Q

    Liked by 1 person

    1. Q,

      I was looking at that football fuck fest video you sent where the ‘announcer’ went off after the TD! I had my earbuds in, so as not to offend Robert’s delicate senses.
      Make no mistake, this IS war. It’s my own personal Vietnam, and I realize it is an effort in futility and I ain’t got Nixon waxing all poetic on my involvement in this quagmire, but I am undeterred.
      Thank you for totally getting this! Of course you do! 😉

      Liked by 1 person

      1. That was quite the video, wasn’t it? You shoulda played it loud and proud, now that you mention it… To hell with Robert’s sensibilities… and I’ve jumped ahead to read John’s suggestion.
        I’m with him!
        And of course I do. I have my own Robert. She’s a royal bitch. We’ve discussed her. Though I go there so rarely now, I think she forgets to loathe me and has actually almost smiled. More of a smirk, but still.

        Liked by 1 person

      2. I LOVE that video. If football announcers really talked like that, I would watch more football.
        To hell with Robert! Period!!
        You got a smile. If I ever got a smile from Robert, I think I’d buy a round for everyone in the store!

        Liked by 1 person

      3. It’s great, for sure! I would start watching it more!!
        To hell with him. And I said an almost smile. But she wasn’t looking at me so it probably was NOT for me…

        Liked by 1 person

      4. I think THAT is what announcers should sound like. Because let’s face it, they pay these peeps all that money even though there isn’t a fan alive who tunes in for the announcers. Hells . . the last announcer people considered tuning in to listen to was Howard Cosell!
        An almost smile, even if it wasn’t meant for you, is still more than I’ve ever gotten from Robert the Horrible.

        Liked by 1 person

  2. You can’t beat Rober. Robert has seen your kind before. He picks up on the slight twitch of the upper lip, and the 17 times read that text stare. He knows what you are doing and he has been at that door long enough to read through your moves like you were Saran wrap. I would pull out the big gun next time. Stop just short of Robert and holler over his shoulder to the shopper in front of you. “Good to talk with you too,” is a line that can’t be checked up on. You need to win this.

    Liked by 2 people

    1. Damn John, you’re scaring the shit out of me with your prowess in this matter. As a general who understands the theater on a doctorate level, your input is most necessary. It’s not what I wanted to hear, of course, but hey . . the War Room ain’t for sissies.
      Linds B has enlisted herself for the cause. She’s going in on a solo mission first to see what happens, and if she is able to procure a hello . . we will next run a joint mission. And then, if all dialogue fails and we cannot reach an accord, Imma follow your advice and go Nagasaki.
      I will win this. By land, by air . . . by those mini shopping carts that you use when you only need to pick up a few things . . .

      Liked by 2 people

      1. Waitaminute! Helmet? Sidearm? Knife? Knee-high boots? What have I become? Are you two making me into some kinda vigilante? I’m CANADIAN, remember? How BADASS can I be?
        Very. Don’t believe all that nice and sorry stuff…
        Dunno that I could pull off that “look”, though…

        Liked by 1 person

      2. Oh . . oh please. We both know the looks you can pull off. Think Jamie Lee Curtis in “True Lies” and then get busy with all manner of crazy Canadian maple syrup bettah buttah. Smooth, like that. As if a hot knife, delivered from the ahem . . thigh high holster.

        Liked by 1 person

      3. Buahaha! Right… especially the scene where she is “trying” to be sexy and ends up on the floor…
        Busy with maple syrup as a weapon… Imma think about that one

        Liked by 1 person

      4. Jamie Lee ain’t have to try as per the sexy. She just done cornered the market on that thing, as if Yahoo and Apple . . . in high heels.
        That maple syrup image comes gratis from your friends on the south side of the border. No tariffs. Gratis and such.

        Like

  3. What is it with the grocery store that people behave like this? Sometimes I see someone I actually KNOW and they pretend they don’t see me and walk the other way. Its like they go somewhere public and think they are having some “alone time” and can’t be bothered to accidentally run into someone.

    Liked by 1 person

    1. Brooke, now you’re touching on a whole ‘nother animal. And yet another grocery store jaunt annoyance that I most certainly relate to.
      Like, how much does it cost to say a simple ‘hello’? I ain’t asking for a filibuster and I sure don’t want one. A simple hello, that’s all.

      Like

  4. Duuuuuuuuuuuuuuude. Robert is upping his game and I know it was a burn but it was funny, because I’ve seen people like this before. I was like damn Robert you are check-mating the situation. But I know you’re going to come out way better in the end. Robert’s hello’s probably come with bad vibes. I’ll send you a good hello from Cali! Hope you’re good!

    Liked by 1 person

    1. Cali,
      Linds B is signed up and she will be serving her tour of duty. This Robert doles out the bad vibes, alright! But I am not deterred . . . yet.
      Thank you for the good vibrations!

      Like

    1. Sassy,

      Yeah, Imma go with twisted. But that’s alright, I probably would’ve done the same if the roles were reversed. Thing is, IF the roles were reversed, Robert WOULD say hello to you . . and so I wouldn’t be laughing or snorting.
      As for bringing him cookies and thanking him for his service, I dunno. You’re a much better person than I. 🙂

      Liked by 1 person

    1. Tara,

      I HAVE. And more than once with nada in return. He has greeted peeps who are with me, and not me! LOL. So nah, I am way past hello with Robert at this point. Been there, done it . . . got ghosted.

      Liked by 1 person

      1. Awwww. That’s a shame. Perhaps he’s jealous of your boyish good looks (although I don’t know if I’ve ever seen you so I’m just spitballing here… :-))

        If it were me, though, I’d up the ante. Hello, Robert! How are YOU today? 🙂

        Liked by 1 person

      2. T-Siz!

        I dunno about the boyish good looks, but Imma take it! So spitball away! LOL

        Upping the ante . . of COURSE you would! And hey, who knows where this saga may lead? I’m a writer, and as such, willing to let the story move me where it wants me to go . .

        Liked by 1 person

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