We are the custard pie appreciation consortium

Following on from my micro rant yesterday, I would like to expand on the whole shopping experience, in fact it’s anywhere you go that necessitates coming in to contact with the general fucking public.

Twice, in a lift in Carlisle, once going up and then again coming down. They stand right in front of the door, then look at you like you just suggested Alan Titchmarsh was a rapist. Physics is pretty clear on the whole “two people occupying the same space at the same time” thing, it isn’t fucking possible. So, to facilitate your entry into the lift, you have to fucking let us out first.

Most shops try to maximise their floor space these days, it’s a key measure. This means there isn’t a great deal of room in the aisles, so I make eye contact and step to one side to let the person through…. and they stop half way to look at a rack… you complete fucking twat!

I’m sure you’re familiar with this one… two men, two women, and two shopping trolleys, usually near a door or the intersection of an aisle. With a fuck load of the rest of us trying to get past. You just stand there and chat, we’ll all fucking struggle past. They seem to be right into it too, maybe Dave should invite Jean Claude, get the Brexit negotiations sorted right out…. Twats!

By far the worst crime… ok, I’m aware they aren’t crimes, but I would gladly put some of these fuckers in the stocks and through hard fruit at them… is the door thing. I was brought up to hold doors for people, not just women, anyone who happens to be behind me. I also say thank you if someone does it for me. Neither of these two things costs anything. So, why do a good percentage of people see fit to do the fucking opposite? Is it so difficult to lift your fucking head and acknowledge that there are other people in the world? Ignorant, selfish, fucking cock wombles.

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