Garage Sales: Refuge For The World's Imbeciles
Never ever, ever, ever, ever, ever have a garage sale. Ever! If you do not heed this advice, you will encounter some of the most repulsive, downright idiotic people on the face of the Earth. I'm not exaggerating either. Evolution seriously took a step back with these specimens for human incompetence. I'm sure I met some future Darwin Award winners today actually.
If you venture your way into a garage sale, there are three types of people you may encounter: the Non-English Speaking Immigrant, complete morons, and old people. I unfortunately met all of them today, and strangely enough... a combination of all three. I really actually have no problem with these people, that is, unless I'm forced to interact with them which sadly always seems to happen to me. Then the shit really hits the fan, because I'm a cynical, impatient bastard who hates dealing with people, peoples' questions, or their annoying menial problems.
Today I had to deal with a family of at least 15 Mexicans, err.. Cubans, or maybe they were Puerto Ricans. They were Latin, I know that, but I actually have no idea what nationality they were, they honestly all look the same to me. Not a single one of them could speak English, and each one of them had about a billion questions to ask me... IN SPANISH! I know they could tell I had no idea what they were saying, so to break they language barrier they spoke louder and slower. I don't understand how they could think that would help, but it obviously made sense to them. I tried to help them, and they were getting angry that I couldn't speak Spanish, IN AMERICA! Dumbasses. I quickly got tired of that, so I just walked away and ignored them until they got frustrated, piled all 15 of them into their little clown car and left.
You would think that I would have enough of that, and just leave since my father could easily handle the whole garage sale alone, but alas I stayed. I'm just a glutton for punishment I suppose, because shortly after I met Elian's family, (Whatever happened to Elian Gonzales? Was he sent back to Cuba? Meh, I really could care less anyway.) I met someone who I can only assume was a lifetime member of the NRA, and an avid viewer of NASCAR. He walked in wearing a wife-beater covered in what appeared to be food from his last lunch, or of lunches before that. I can't understand that. You don't even have to be coordinated to eat! You just need eyesight. Brooke could do a better job of shoveling food into her mouth than this future Nobel Prize winner.
Jim Bob, as I so lovingly call him came into my backyard in search of a cooler, which I assume would be used to cool off his "brewskies" or preserve that raccoon he found on the side of the road for dinner. I don't understand why he would come in looking for a cooler, when on our signs for the garage sale displayed everything we were selling, coolers not being one of them. Actually I do understand why he would do something like that, the guy was as dumb as a bag of bricks. After he had confirmed there was indeed no cooler for sale, he commented on the book I had been reading to pass the time, (which happened to be The Lord of The Rings trilogy compiled into one book. It's really quite convenient) asking, "Hey, is that based off the movie?”. My jaw literally dropped, and I muttered idiot under my breath, right before I dropkicked him all the way to the trailer park.
I really didn't have too much trouble with old people today though. They only big thing was that like every one of them smelled like moth balls or Bengay, but it's nothing to get infuriated over. They also walk really slowly, which is annoying but bearable. This is my only warning to all of you. Beware of garage sales!
If you venture your way into a garage sale, there are three types of people you may encounter: the Non-English Speaking Immigrant, complete morons, and old people. I unfortunately met all of them today, and strangely enough... a combination of all three. I really actually have no problem with these people, that is, unless I'm forced to interact with them which sadly always seems to happen to me. Then the shit really hits the fan, because I'm a cynical, impatient bastard who hates dealing with people, peoples' questions, or their annoying menial problems.
Today I had to deal with a family of at least 15 Mexicans, err.. Cubans, or maybe they were Puerto Ricans. They were Latin, I know that, but I actually have no idea what nationality they were, they honestly all look the same to me. Not a single one of them could speak English, and each one of them had about a billion questions to ask me... IN SPANISH! I know they could tell I had no idea what they were saying, so to break they language barrier they spoke louder and slower. I don't understand how they could think that would help, but it obviously made sense to them. I tried to help them, and they were getting angry that I couldn't speak Spanish, IN AMERICA! Dumbasses. I quickly got tired of that, so I just walked away and ignored them until they got frustrated, piled all 15 of them into their little clown car and left.
You would think that I would have enough of that, and just leave since my father could easily handle the whole garage sale alone, but alas I stayed. I'm just a glutton for punishment I suppose, because shortly after I met Elian's family, (Whatever happened to Elian Gonzales? Was he sent back to Cuba? Meh, I really could care less anyway.) I met someone who I can only assume was a lifetime member of the NRA, and an avid viewer of NASCAR. He walked in wearing a wife-beater covered in what appeared to be food from his last lunch, or of lunches before that. I can't understand that. You don't even have to be coordinated to eat! You just need eyesight. Brooke could do a better job of shoveling food into her mouth than this future Nobel Prize winner.
Jim Bob, as I so lovingly call him came into my backyard in search of a cooler, which I assume would be used to cool off his "brewskies" or preserve that raccoon he found on the side of the road for dinner. I don't understand why he would come in looking for a cooler, when on our signs for the garage sale displayed everything we were selling, coolers not being one of them. Actually I do understand why he would do something like that, the guy was as dumb as a bag of bricks. After he had confirmed there was indeed no cooler for sale, he commented on the book I had been reading to pass the time, (which happened to be The Lord of The Rings trilogy compiled into one book. It's really quite convenient) asking, "Hey, is that based off the movie?”. My jaw literally dropped, and I muttered idiot under my breath, right before I dropkicked him all the way to the trailer park.
I really didn't have too much trouble with old people today though. They only big thing was that like every one of them smelled like moth balls or Bengay, but it's nothing to get infuriated over. They also walk really slowly, which is annoying but bearable. This is my only warning to all of you. Beware of garage sales!