I thought, "Yeah, or you could, you know, try to get out through the exit door, you asshole. Why are you getting mad? Everybody else is just minding their own business and all they want is to come inside and shop, but you're the one getting mad. Meanwhile, right over there is a door set up just for you, the shopper who who has completed his shopping and is ready to go home. Look at that. 50 years ago, or whenever they built this store, without knowing you would ever exist, they anticipated this exact scenario and actually built a whole separate door. They even labeled them with the words 'ENTRANCE' and 'EXIT'. That's right, somebody took a look at the blueprints and said
'Okay, we've got a floor, ceiling, four load-bearing walls, a loading dock and a door so people can come and go... you know what, go ahead and add another door.'Seriously, how could a merchant possibly be more proactive in terms of resolving a customer service issue than that? Yet, somehow, against all odds, you've managed to find a way to be dissatisfied and now you're angry. You know what, screw you, you grumpy old bastard."
'Why?'
'Just trust me. I have a feeling about this.'
And as I'm kind of lost in the internal reverie, I glance over to where the 'EXIT' door is and I see people streaming in from the outside.
So never mind.
I am a cat. I never know if I'm coming or going. How does one achieve old age by going against the flow?
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