I suppose it's good that there's a place like Bakersfield for all the slow and dimwitted children to go once they've grown up. That doesn't make it any easier for the rest of us who have to live amongst them.
I received my first paycheck yesterday, for a fraction of what I used to make. (That fraction would be one quarter, if you must know.) I decided to swing by the bank on the way home. It was after hours and when I pulled up and saw the line at the ATM I knew it wasn't going to be good.
The people of Bako and technology just don't mesh. There were six people in front of me and each was dumber than the one before. What is their problem? Have they never seen an ATM before? Do they not have opposable thumbs? How hard could it be? It's like dialing a phone! I then realized there's no proof any of these people could do that either.
By the time we got to the gentlemen in front of me it was obvious he was unclear on the first rule of banking - there must be money in the account in order to withdraw it. I was close enough to see the "insufficient funds" screen pop up each time he plugged in his card. Did he think he was playing a slot machine? Did he hope that eventually the Pay Day Loan Fairy would appear and deposit some funds? Who knows. After the eighth attempt he finally gave up and harrumphed off to his Kia.
The same behavior used to frustrate me to no end when I had to go to the market. Until I devised the perfect passive aggressive solution.
I always make sure I have 14 items or less because the express lane has a limit of 15. I wait until my order is scanned and the smiling cashier gives me my total.
"And I'd like a pack of cigarettes" I say.
Her sunny disposition immediately melts into a frown as she turns to the sullen box boy and practically spits out "Cigarettes!" And off he lopes, like a three toed sloth, to the front service counter. Minutes pass as he fishes around for the key to the cigarette case and retrieves the smokes. He moves so slow it's like watching tai chi. Meanwhile a line has formed behind me, people in a hurry with a lone quart of milk or a single brick of Velveeta. You can feel their anger rising as they all watch the cigarette kabuki playing out in front of them.
How's it feel now morons? Now you know what I deal with with all you ATMtards and Sanskrit check writers.
Sure it adds five or ten minutes to the whole shopping experience and I could easily pick up the smokes in a few seconds at the service station down the street. But I find the satisfaction it gives me is therapeutic.
You take what you get here.
