Oh, The Things I Could Have Said

Hindsight, stairway wit, 20/20 vision, looking back, Monday morning
quarterbacking; these are the terms that come to mind after
encountering a rude bitch in a packed supermarket (well, admittedly,
not all these terms come to mind. Some come to my mind, but others
come from the thesaurus).
After taking Ollie for a walk on Palm Beach (where I overheard a water
taxi tour guide tell his party of two that the homes along the water
there have a $349,000 yearly tax on them), we went by Publix, our
grocery store, to pick-up some pie makin' goodies for Turkey Day (or,
maybe it will be Tofurkey day considering a vegetarian friend is
hosting me this year).

I had to wait for a parking space and many people just left their cars
in illegal areas, it was so busy. Once inside, I found what I needed
and got in line. The lines were also very busy, as you can imagine.
When the Check-Out Girl told the woman ahead of me that she didn't
have $5-worth of quarters at the moment, bitchy woman with the fancy
headband sneered at her, "Oh, you've gotta be kidding me!"

Checkout Girl apologized and sent someone to get Ms. Bitchy Quarters
some change. While she waited, she started checking me out (my
groceries, I mean). Although I hate it when others do this to me, I
had to crowd Ms. Bitchy Quarters to swipe my card because she was
still standing there, being very busy and important waiting for her
quarters to appear. "Excuse me" I said politely, to get the swiping
machine, you know, because now it's my turn?

"You don't mind if I finish here, first"  said Ms. Bitchy Quarters, annoyed

"Oh, no. I don't even mind that you're holding up a very long line of
people in a very busy grocery store two days before a major holiday.
What I do mind is you sneering at Check-Out Girl, who is working very
hard tonight, and snotting out, 'Oh, you've got to be kidding me!',
when she doesn't immediately have a ridiculous amount of quarters to
help support your tacky slots machine addiction.  THAT, I mind." and
then I smile cheerily after thanking Check-Out Girl, take my bag and
turn to Ms. Bitchy Quarters and say in a sugary sweet tone while
crinkling my nose ever so slightly, "Happy Holidays!".  This leaves
her appalled but also thinking about her behavior, which leads her to
apologize to Check-Out Girl after I've left, not to mention re-think
how she treats telemarketers who, while they are completely
undesirable, are people just trying to pay their bills (types the girl
who screens all her calls to avoid said telemarketers).

That's what would have happened if I had the guts, and the hindsight
at the moment.