Supermarket Rage

                      ESL Group Story Writing Class November 21, 2010
When I was a child, my mom told me to count to ten before I respond to someone or something that upsets me. I am usually successful at holding my temper this way, but sometimes it just doesn't work.

Yesterday I was in line at the supermarket, waiting to pay. And this little old lady with a cart full of groceries walks ahead of me just like I don't exist. I look at her but she just does like I don't exist.

So I count to ten but it doesn't work and I give her a very bad word. And she does the same thing to me. In no time, there is trouble in the supermarket.

Then I thought maybe I could pay at another counter, but I saw the other line was long, so I wanted to talk to her to let her know that I was first.

I just advised her not to be too selfish, that being selfish is not a good attitude. But then that woman got angry with me and threw a tantrum.

The "tantrum" was carried out on my head, and my head was bleeding. I was so annoyed that I wanted to kick her. But I had gone through therapy for anger management, so I had to control myself. I started to count again: 1, 2, 3...

But the woman didn’t stop.  She started slapping me. I shouted to her, "Hey what are you doing?  What’s going on here?”     The lady stopped suddenly, looked at my face and whispered "I know you!"

I glared at her. I certainly didn't know that old rude crow. " I doubt it," I responded smugly.

"Maybe you forgot" - she said - "or maybe it was your father. Someone like you robbed me of my pension money 30 years ago and since then I am poor."  I answered: "I have never seen you before and I hope I'll never see anyone as nasty as you anymore. And I don't believe you. If you are so sure go to the police."  Then I remembered that there are CC cameras at the supermarket and I went to the police to sue that old bag.

Anyway, the policeman can't understand me because I'm an Italian man.  I started to count again.

So in this case, maybe it's better if I don't say anything. But when I was talking to the old lady, I saw that someone wanted to steal my money.

"I shouted at her, "Look, this is all your fault. You should take responsibility for the things you do! If you weren't such an old crow, I would smack you.”

I couldn't control myself anymore. I gave up counting and started to throw everything.  There were apples, oranges, wallets, and keys in the air. I was shouting "1, 2, 3" when I was throwing stuff.

Everybody in the supermarket froze. They were afraid of me. But suddenly I remembered that face!     Yes, I had seen her in the clinic where I had therapy.  She was working at there. Omg, they were testing me!

My mouth dropped open and my arms flopped to my side. The red mist of anger that always accompanies my fits of rage began to subside.  I looked down at my hands and was shocked to see a dented can of soup in one Hand and a broken broom handle with the tag half torn off in the other.

The old lady was looking at me with that "gotcha" look on her face.  What a bastard! She passed in front of me at the checkout line. She made it possible for someone to steal my wallet.  I decided to put her in a bag and dump her in the trash. I did it very calmly and efficiently. I finally had learned to control my rage.

Alianaluz Rivera (T)
ejje Xaris
Giovanni Tweak (CR)
oo Broono
paula Olrich
Silvia Easterwood

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