The Hasty Series | Fuck You Old-Timer

Welcome to the Hasty Series!  This series is an every-now-and-then blog post delivering a quick "fuck you" to something that I don't like.  There's no schedule for these installments; I just write these when I'm too lazy to write a more substantial blog post! 

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They are our parents and grandparents.

They are patriots, teachers, and homemakers; they are white-collar and they blue-collar.

They raised us; they taught us right from wrong.

They are our elders.

We love them; we honor them.

Then they show up to our local Stewarts Shop during the morning rush and pay for a gallon of milk with a mutha' fuckin' check. Man or woman, the fumbling of keys, pockets full of change, giant wallets in the back pocket throwing their lumbar out of alignment, or purses full of old hankies and Werther's Originals - it funny how time is not of the essence for these folks with so little time left on this earth.

They locate the check book and ask the cashier for a pen. Meanwhile everyone else that is going to work stands in line behind the elder. waiting. Their coffee is getting cold; suddenly the sausage, egg, and cheese sandwich in their hand doesn't seem worth it.

The line at the Stewarts Shop cashier grows longer; the elder continues to slowly write out the check for the gallon of milk. The person in line directly behind the elder grows more frustrated, but glances at the elder's careful and methodical check-writing etiquette - "outstanding penmanship tho" the person says to him or herself.

The elder signs the check, and hands it to the cashier. The long line of patrons exhale a sigh of relief.

The elder goes to grab the gallon of milk. Then stops. Grabs a $20 dollar bill from his wallet or her purse and says "I forgot. I need my scatch-offs. Hmmm, how about, ummm, what's that one? Yeah, one of those, and..."

Everyone - still standing in line behind the elder - moans, groans, or slams their fucking head into the nearest object.

We love these old fucking people tho. We really do.