Annoyance knows no gender
Far and away, males traveling in groups more than one tend to be both dreadfully sophomoric and aggravating. I believe I've covered the topic a long while back in terms of general people watching patterns. The pack mentality almost always devolves the participants to the point where one would think the members had never seen a bare boob, let alone touched one in the course of their pitiful lives.
However, that doesn't mean the ladies won't get into the act. In a way, when they decide to cut loose, they're even worse than the men. Right now my mind's eye is ablaze with images that would make Conan blanch with the gusto I match his oft quoted mantra to action. Ah the sweet, sweet lamentations of the women.
They filtered in piece-meal, somewhat softening the overall impact of their group at the cost of drawing out the entire onset in much the same way as limiting yourself to flat soda and saltines can keep you on that ragged edge of nausea for what seems an eternity before the flu virus kicks off the immuno-revolution by reversing the digestive tract simultaneously kicking in the afterburners. Oh yes, you know it's going to be bad and you're clinging to every last scrap of control remaining to keep it at bay knowing that in the end, it won't be enough.
I wanted quit of them within five minutes of invading my domain. I'd settle for accomplishing this by rapidly concluding their sale(s) so they'd just go away, though as the seconds wore by I became less and less picky about what methods would yield immediate results.
The reasons for my surging antipathy where numerous. Initially, it was superficial irritation of people unable to converse at a reasonable voice level. This however, rapidly proved to be just the most immediate symptom of a running monologue distributed through five shrill harpy-like mouths.
If that wasn't quite adequate enough to put them on the map as a carbuncle on the scrotum of retail, they were all too eager to bring their plumbing foibles and current sex lives into explicit focus. Also, I might add at a volume that could not possibly be missed at any point in the store.
They seemed constitutionally unable to keep their volume moderated for the space of more than a couple minutes when chided they were a bit loud.
And they moved around. It was like the migration of bugling elephants, or perhaps cape buffalo. Massive, cud-chewing, and unconcerned with trampling anything that happened to stray into their path. They must have orbited the store at least a dozen times at apparent whim.
The bloody chits where here for over a fucking hour!
Yes, they bought things. I will even grudgingly state it was a decent sale.
Very thin consolation on a chilly day.
However, that doesn't mean the ladies won't get into the act. In a way, when they decide to cut loose, they're even worse than the men. Right now my mind's eye is ablaze with images that would make Conan blanch with the gusto I match his oft quoted mantra to action. Ah the sweet, sweet lamentations of the women.
They filtered in piece-meal, somewhat softening the overall impact of their group at the cost of drawing out the entire onset in much the same way as limiting yourself to flat soda and saltines can keep you on that ragged edge of nausea for what seems an eternity before the flu virus kicks off the immuno-revolution by reversing the digestive tract simultaneously kicking in the afterburners. Oh yes, you know it's going to be bad and you're clinging to every last scrap of control remaining to keep it at bay knowing that in the end, it won't be enough.
I wanted quit of them within five minutes of invading my domain. I'd settle for accomplishing this by rapidly concluding their sale(s) so they'd just go away, though as the seconds wore by I became less and less picky about what methods would yield immediate results.
The reasons for my surging antipathy where numerous. Initially, it was superficial irritation of people unable to converse at a reasonable voice level. This however, rapidly proved to be just the most immediate symptom of a running monologue distributed through five shrill harpy-like mouths.
If that wasn't quite adequate enough to put them on the map as a carbuncle on the scrotum of retail, they were all too eager to bring their plumbing foibles and current sex lives into explicit focus. Also, I might add at a volume that could not possibly be missed at any point in the store.
They seemed constitutionally unable to keep their volume moderated for the space of more than a couple minutes when chided they were a bit loud.
And they moved around. It was like the migration of bugling elephants, or perhaps cape buffalo. Massive, cud-chewing, and unconcerned with trampling anything that happened to stray into their path. They must have orbited the store at least a dozen times at apparent whim.
The bloody chits where here for over a fucking hour!
Yes, they bought things. I will even grudgingly state it was a decent sale.
Very thin consolation on a chilly day.
posted by Lanius at 6:30 PM
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