To the guy at Harris Teeter who wanted to borrow my VIC card: Get your own, you bastard! What? You think they’re hard to come by or something? They give the things away like an Eastern Bloc hooker gives away crabs! If you forgot yours, well, sod off again; I’m not your own personal wallet. Maybe next time you’ll remember. Ooooh, sorry I couldn’t go out of my way to help save you that ten cents on your President’s Choice soda. And it’s not like the damn cards aren’t anything more than a devious way to track every granola bar and rice cake you purchase. Rest assured, it’s bad enough that I have data entry clerks at the Hairy Teeter home office knowing I’m addicted to tater tots; I sure as hell don’t want your Nilla Wafers and Franzia linked to my rep.
VIC-tim of Loathe