The Jungle of Trash

Unlike some lucky bastards who don’t have to work their way through college, I and most others must work our way through the horrors of retail. These are just a few things I’ve noticed since starting my job four years ago. Enjoy my field guide.

            The first thing upon entering the artificial cesspool known as a supermarket is the interesting people. Well, perhaps “interesting” is a polite place-holder synonym for “bat shit insane.” This particular supermarket (known as The Jungle, henceforth) has, indeed, more of these types of creatures than any other gathering of people I have ever mixed with. However, this dubious honor that has been bestowed upon The Jungle comes with perks for the clever, observant employee. It allows for perhaps the best free entertainment on earth. Every day we digest a veritable safari of dope fiends; gambling addicts; angst-ridden, shoplifting teenagers; senile, Dial-a-Bat riding, old women and men; and, of course, some of the employees themselves. So many do we see each day, and so few capable of proper social interaction. The following is a list of the most offensive, cringe-worthy fauna of The Jungle.

 

The Whistler – A classic example, you can hear this man (it’s always a man) coming from five aisles away. He absolutely must demonstrate to the world around him that he is indeed elated about something. Either that or he is incapable of breathing air into his lungs in a normal capacity. The whistling itself is severely irritating and is some combination of the following: off-key, high-pitched, spit-filled, or enchanted with breath so foul you can smell it from the dairy department.

What to look for: Any sort of man of Italian decent, possibly fat.

What to listen for: A popular whistling song is “Michelle” by the Beatles or any other song with incomprehensible lyrics or foreign words that our subjects cannot grasp with their feeble intellect.

 

Old People – Just like the cat food they buy, old people come is several varieties. Most of these variations are of different degrees of senility. Fortunately for the keen observer, it is easy to tell which of these decrepit shoppers is the most senile. You must only look towards the personal effects and mannerisms of the old person in question. On a scale of incessant complaining (least senile) to unable to defecate properly/accurately (die already), we take a look at a primary caregiver’s worst nightmare (we’re lucky we are only subject to them for an hour).

1. Bitty with magnifying glass in order to properly read tags/inspect produce

2. Duffer that mercilessly flirts with the cashier personnel with such gems like: “My, what a lovely collared vestment!” or “Nice tits, baby.”

3. Codger who never stops chewing when there is clearly nothing in his mouth

4. Old Bat that rides the “Scooter of the Damned” and cannot go down an aisle without running something/someone over

5. Blue-hair who asks where the prune juice is EVERY TIME even though she is in the store at least twice a day

6. Oldie that came in to use the restroom, only quite makes it to the courtesy booth, shakes the SHIT(!!!) out of his pant leg, and runs off

 

Single, Welfare Mom – Here we have the greatest diversity of any species mentioned. There are MILFs, butch moms out to prove they don’t need their almost certainly dead-beat baby’s daddy, moms that hate their children outright, moms that hate their children but act like they love them in public, fresh teenage moms who must not realize their lives are permanently over, gaunt-looking teenage mothers who now realize their lives are permanently over, and older mothers who, god help us all, still dress in teenage mom attire. These types are never alone, though. They are always accompanied by several children, never one. It is apparent that this species spends so much time reproducing offspring they can ill afford to search for a job.

            Do not be fooled by their outward appearances, however! They are all still very much white trash or otherwise, they would not shop at The Jungle. There is one, single identifying mark of the single mom: the WIC-check. This handy device allows the user full access to our own brand of milk, juices plentiful in vitamins, cheese and cereal… all paid for by us, those competent enough to have a job and work for our food! It is not enough that they receive the food, either. They must try and sneak in extra food or food clearly not on our list of choices! No, ma’am, you may not have the Count Chocula!

What to look for: It is better not to look, or you may feel a bit of guilt, of which the single moms are best known for falsely receiving. You may genuinely feel bad for the child, however, who never seems to want to stop running for candy/freedom/a foster home.

What to listen for: “NO, KEVIN! PUT THAT DOWN! YOU CAN’T HAVE THAT! WHAT DID I JUST SAY?!? GET BACK HERE!”