Hippies
I love living in Santa Cruz county. I feel like one of the luckiest people in the world sometimes. Then, there's other days when I realize just how annoying the high per capita rate of hippies we have here is.
Case in point... I'm looking for peppers. I walk into the local Staff of Life (read: natural/whole foods store) and hunt for peppers. Down the olive/peppers section, I see an empty space that once housed peppers. I decide to check in the ethnic foods section. No luck. Then an employee walks by. I stop him and ask him about where to find hot peppers.
::blank stare:: Then in that oh so stereotypical stoner drawl, "I think these are the only peppers we carry" and he reaches over, grabs a jar, hands it to me then shuffles away.
I look at the jar.
Cactus. It's a jar of pickled cactus. There are nothing even resembling peppers near the jar's original location.
Ugh.
I walk back to the other olive/pepper section where I encounter another employee. I gesture to the empty pepper spot and ask if there might be more peppers in the stock room.
"Ummm... I don't know anything about peppers. If we have peppers, you should check the ethnic section for them. But I don't know if we have peppers here"
Dude... I just showed you where they should be... and now you want me to go back to the other isle... for what? Cactus?!?
Both of them had that glazed stare and slow speech I've come to loathe encountering here in SC county. I abhor people who live up to and enforce negative stereotypes. Want to smoke copious amounts of pot? Fine. Great. But please, for fuck's sake, don't make me suffer your subsequent moronity. Stay in your house 'till the stupid wears off.
Case in point... I'm looking for peppers. I walk into the local Staff of Life (read: natural/whole foods store) and hunt for peppers. Down the olive/peppers section, I see an empty space that once housed peppers. I decide to check in the ethnic foods section. No luck. Then an employee walks by. I stop him and ask him about where to find hot peppers.
::blank stare:: Then in that oh so stereotypical stoner drawl, "I think these are the only peppers we carry" and he reaches over, grabs a jar, hands it to me then shuffles away.
I look at the jar.
Cactus. It's a jar of pickled cactus. There are nothing even resembling peppers near the jar's original location.
Ugh.
I walk back to the other olive/pepper section where I encounter another employee. I gesture to the empty pepper spot and ask if there might be more peppers in the stock room.
"Ummm... I don't know anything about peppers. If we have peppers, you should check the ethnic section for them. But I don't know if we have peppers here"
Dude... I just showed you where they should be... and now you want me to go back to the other isle... for what? Cactus?!?
Both of them had that glazed stare and slow speech I've come to loathe encountering here in SC county. I abhor people who live up to and enforce negative stereotypes. Want to smoke copious amounts of pot? Fine. Great. But please, for fuck's sake, don't make me suffer your subsequent moronity. Stay in your house 'till the stupid wears off.