I’m sitting in the break room at work (where else would one sit?) and a female coworker-I’ve known her for a month-sits down next to me. I ask her how she is doing-because I’m a nice guy like that-and she turns, looks at me, and opens her mouth to start speaking. Before any sound has actually escaped her lips, I am deeply regretting my current geographical position. The look of icy indignation that congealed in her eyes told me all too well that I had marked myself as a target for a vent of epic female proportions. Thus, at that moment, I wanted nothing more to be far away, preferably somewhere in Cambodia, for added security.

You see, there is a common attitude I’ve discovered among females my age. That attitude states, in no uncertain terms, that ‘I am nice and innocent and perfect, and any who go against my will shall always be the guilty party who persecutes me unrelentingly.’ Of course, ‘going against my will’ can be anything from telling her off to simply existing. This attitude is especially dangerous because most every female has it, and it clashes with itself whenever more than one is occupying the same general vicinity. This means that girls don’t like each other that much, and explains why they are so catty to each other.

See, guys are all cool about this. We like someone until they give us reasons to dislike them, and then we simply voice our opinion loudly, and possibly punch each other. At that point, there’s nothing left to do. The opposing parties might even become friends. But not girls…oh no. They hold onto percieved slights for years, simmering away on the back burners of their vengeful minds. It boggles my mind, but most of these female fiends can’t even consider the concept of letting something go. No concept of letting it roll of like water off a duck’s back. No concept of the fact that everyone else is a thinking, feeling human too, and they are not the only ones so easily hurt. Life is not only unfair and cold to them.

When I saw all this preping behind my co-worker’s eyes, I knew it was too late. And I was right, or course (if I wasn’t, this blog entry would not exist). So there she is, for 15 minutes, going off on how the year 2006 is the worst of her already miserable life and how everything is about her, and everyone she doesn’t like is a snobby jerk. And there I am, forced to smile and nod, smile and nod. Because come on, what am I going to say? “I’m sorry, but it seems to me that you’re a complete female dog (insert proper term for that at own discretion) and even though your life is not perfect, neither are you. Plus, it would be a whole lot better if you didn’t let half this crap get to you, because it is really not all about you, so it doesn’t matter at all in the grand scheme of things.” Of course I couldn’t say that, but I really wanted to.

This observation of mine may seem harsh, perhaps a gross over-generalization, but I’ve seen this way too many times to dismiss its existence. Many girls my age just cannot understand that they are not the only victims in this world. Wouldn’t you be happier if you allowed things to pass if it meant getting along with your fellow woman? I swear…guys may have macho egos, but girls have constant PMS.

Working long shifts without a day off in nearly a week has caused me to again ponder the inherent insanity of my place of employment. Most people simply take this for granted, since no one spends more time in a grocery store than necessary. “Hey Bob, let’s head down to the local Stuff-Mart and just chill,” is not something you will hear often. Yet for myself, who constantly works-nay, lives-at such a place, the utter ridiculousness of it all becomes patently clear. If you don’t believe me, read on if you dare.

I shall bring to light a personal favorite: the invisible cheese. That’s right, cheese that remains utterly unseen to the average customer’s eye. I do not refer to a specific cheeze, but all cheese, of every variety and color and curd. How do I know cheese is invisible? I base this truth on the fact that, of all the items in my store, cheese is that who’s location is asked of me at least once a day. Now, if we were talking about an obscure spice or some such, I wouldn’t pay it much mind. But let me remind you again…we are talking about cheese. There is a whole row, well lit and obviously placed, filled to overflowing with all manner of that scrumptious dairy product. The only way the human eye could miss this is if the cheese becomes invisible when it knows it’s being hunted by it’s deadly foe: the voracious suburbanite. Thus is disappears, leaving the befuddled customer no choice but to seek my aid in their quest for cheddar domination.

I suspect that any day now, the U.S army will contact me for more information, that they might use this ’stealth cheese’ to the nation’s advantage. Think of the possibilities…soldiers covered in dairy products, able to move unseen through enemy lines. Stealth fighters will be a thing of the past. Just take a few bombs, hook up some wings and a motor, cover the whole contraption in cheese whiz, and bam! Instant stealth bomber.

But take heed, grocery store clerks are immune to the cheese’s natural defense, and as such, these methods of invisiblilty cannot fool us. So if you think sneaking up on me covered in thinly-gratted cheddar will save you, think again. No doubt the miliary will also reqire my skills of detection to thward any enemy usage of the cheese stragety. Truly, I am the wave of the future.

    Ok, so it's actually 12:41 of the next day, but pretend this was yesterday's post. I had to work late, and didn't get out of that retched hive of scum and villainy until after midnight. I haven't the faintest clue what to write about. The most powerful thing I'm feeling right now is missing World of Warcraft. I've not played that for a week, and it hurts, deep in my soul. But since none of you want to hear about how complete my obsession is with that game, I'll spare you, for now.

    Here's a thought. Actually, it's a question, but who's counting. Why do people date when marriage isn't an option? This includes people in high school who are going to go off to different sides of the country for college, people in college who are going completely different directions in their life, and most of all, people who have no idea if they could actually spend the rest of their life with this person. Why bother? Sure it might be nice for a few months, but after that, one or both of you will be left hurting.

    Some might say it is just practice for the real thing. What real thing? I assume you mean marriage, but marriage is just a permanent friendship with sex thrown in the mix. If you want practice, make close friends of the opposite gender. Be nice, even charming. Friends are allowed to do that. The only thing dating will help you practice-if complete commitment is not an option-is how to break up. I'll pass on that lesson, if possible.

    Others might say dating allows people to get to know each other better. Right, because doing everything to can to make yourself seem the perfectly desirable individual will really make for an authentic relationship. That is what dating is, of course. You put your best foot forward, clean up, dress up, freshen up, smarten up, and maybe even take a shower (if you're me, that's a big deal) when you see this person. You date to show people how good you can be, but if that is all someone knows…isn't that a little misleading? No one is perfect, so how will pretending you are make for a deeper relationship? 

    Finally, there is that whole nice bit about having someone special who is always there for you. What is wrong with wanting that, even if it won't be permanent? What is wrong is that it won't be permanent. If there is no real commitment, then this 'special someone' is only there for you as long as they feel you are there for them. If someone's not getting their needs me, well, the door's that way. Most people seem to realize this, at which point dating becomes a game of hoop-jumping. You get to spend all kinds of time, energy, and yes, money, trying to meet this person's needs so you can feel confident that your needs will be met. Yeah, that sounds like as much fun as snorting live fire ants…no thanks.

    "So what is your solution, oh wise and enlightened Peter?" you ask. Have I kissed dating goodbye? No, but I'd like to meet the guy who wrote that book, so he can kiss my foot goodbye as I snapkick his emo face from here to next week. Dating can have its place. You cannot just go from 'friends' to 'married' unfortunately. If making that ultimate commitment is an option, you better be bloody well sure you are making those promises to the right person for the right reasons. But if marriage is not a reasonable outcome in a dating relationship, then you're giving yourself roughly the same chance for being miserable as a basketball has a chance for being bounced. It's gunna happen.

    So there, I ranted on a viable subject for a good long time. Wonder if I should change the title now…nah, I'll do it when I'm done editing. I never forget stuff like that.

I have spent that last four years working on and off at a grocery store which will remain nameless for legal reasons (legal reasons = me wanting to keep my job longer than a day after this post). Over these years, I have come to understand many things about the grocery world I wish I didn't know. Since I'm such a kind-hearted guy, I shall pass all this unwanted knowledge on to you.

First, any store that uses 'club cards' or any other various membership discount devices is ripping you off. The simple fact of that matter is that the 'sale price' that you recieve via your membership is really the normal price. The stuff that is not on sale is, for all intents and purposes, priced so high it's off the shizzle. Anyone who regularly shops at a store like this and does not buy only that which is on sale unless in dire need (dire need = out of Coco Puffs) is a card-carrying moron. Seriously, unless you enjoy putting money through paper-shredders, or mixing Franklin fun notes in with your stir-fries, do not do this!

Next, it is a little known fact about grocery store employees: they are actually people too. Even if the employees are required to ask you if you're having a nice day, or how they can help you, do not assume that they can't appreciate the same courtesy extended to them. It really irks me to ask someone if I can help them, and get snapped at, "No, I'm fine!" Seriously, I'm not a machine; I'm a person offering to help you. Please give us the civility you would extend anyone trying to help you in any situation. If you don't…trust me, we have ways of making your life miserable

Finally, I'll end this little session with a produce tip. WASH EVERYTHING. I'm so freakin' serious, it's not funny. You do not want to know where those fruit and veggies have been. I'm not talking about boxes and shelves, I'm talking dirty sinks and dirty floors and dirty hands (my hands, to be specific). And when I say wash, I mean wash, not trickle a little water over it and call it good. Wash that sucker like the bacteria on it killed your kitten. Be vengeful, be vicious, be thorough.

That is all for today. I've got to go to work and make your produce dirty. Bye bye now!

Ok, so remember that thing I said a few days ago about making a post every day? Right, well in case you've checked lately (I'm sure you haven't, but I can dream, can't I) there has been a notable lack of updating for the past two days. However, this is sooooo not my fault.

On Wednesday morning, the internet in my humble abode came crashing down. Both computers on the network didn't completely shut down, but when trying to access anything, it was about as speedy as swimming through wet concrete with both hands tied behind your ears. This was not good. The newest World ofWarcraft patch was out, and without its blessed touch, I would be unable to enter that glorious realm of video game bliss.

And now, finally, the web has returned, and I'm forced to confront a painful fact. I'm a junkie. Take away my internet, and I'm reduced to a slavering animal, quivering from withdrawal, curled up into the fetal position in the corner. Am I so dependant on this technological contraption that I cannot function without its existence? Now, if you're scoffing at me, I ask you this: could you survive? I'm not talking about surviving while you are camping or on vacation, when there is something to take your mind off it. I'm talking stuck at home, daily life, without internet. Think on that, and tremble in fear. As for me, I'm going to go play Warcraft!

Well Elliot finally did it. He set me up with a blog, convincing me that my rants would be much more appreciated in cyberspace. Personally, I could care less about that. As long as more people are exposed to my genius, the better. Sadly, if you are reading this, that means you probably know me, and thus will be immune to the impressive grandstanding my skills in word-crafting allow me. If you don't know me, ignore that last sentence. I am brilliant and charismatic and presidents commonly come to me for advice. You know president Ford, and that whole Airforce 1 incident? I totally told him to kick the crap out of those terrorists, and look what happened. Yep, Harrison and I go way back.

Anyhow, back to the matter at hand-that matter being me, of course-I shall now describe what I intend to do with this site. I'm making a commitment to post every night this week. I chose the night because in the morning, if I'm not working at Safeway, I'm sleeping. These posts are guaranteed to make no guarantees. It might be about video games, or romance, or how good shooting Elliot with my new Airsoft pistol is going to feel, depending on my mood. If you want to respond (and I really hope you do, because I like hearing back from people) you are allowed to reply to my rant, or go off on your own tangent, to which I might reply if you are intriguing enough.

If enough people check this out, I'll keep going beyond this week. I hate doing anything without and audience, and that includes blogging. I'm so amazing, it would be a crime against humanity to keep all this awesomeness to myself. That is all for tonight. Tomorrow I shall be more serious, and give some real info on myself. Or not…no guarantees!