Did I Ask for Your Fucking Opinion?

A few weeks ago I was in Barnes and Noble.  I love that place, but I have a really odd relationship with books.  I fucking love books. I love reading, mostly because I developed a love of comics as a kid.  But for some reason I only read comics in phases. There are periods of time when I'm a voracious reader; then suddenly a switch goes off and I can't pick up a regular book for months. Despite this, I still have a desire to buy books any time I see something I want to read.

I've been listening to a lot of Adam Carolla's podcast lately.  Aside from being very funny, I like it because he and I seem to be very similar guys.  Granted, he's had a much harder life, has a much stronger drive and is 1000 times more successful.  But we do have incredibly similar... thought processes, right down to my shock in hearing that he also has a few symptoms of Asperger's Syndrome.  So I went to Barnes and Noble looking for his two books: In Fifty Years We'll All Be Chicks and Not Taco Bell Material.

I went over to the comedy section, spotted In Fifty Years* and picked it up, but didn't see Not Taco Bell Material.  I thought it might be under the Auto Biography section, but when I looked it wasn't there either.  I went over to the customer service desk and waited.  For some reason there's never anyone at the customer service desk at Barnes and Noble, yet I never take the hint.  Eventually a very large black girl walks up with that look that they always have when you're at that counter.  The look accompanies the words "Can I help you?" and translates it to "The fuck you want?"  Judging by her way too tight clothing and speech patterns, I didn't take her for a Love Lines fan, but I try not to assume anything about anyone.

"I'm looking for a book by a guy named Adam Carolla."

"UGH. You not lookin' for that We'll All Be Chicks bullshit, are you?"

And I had two thoughts.  First: how the fuck does someone with her obvious charm, wit and class find gainful employment in a book store?  Secondly, I was feeling shame.  I'm almost never ashamed of my behavior, so I didn't know what to do.  I let the first book in my hand sink below the counter for a moment, not wanting her to see it.  Then my common sense kicked in.  What the fuck business is it of hers what I'm reading? Is she suddenly a $6 an hour consultant for the New Yorker or is she a cashier?

"No. I have that one."  I placed it on the table so she could see it.  "I'm looking for his other book.  I think it had something to do with not liking Taco Bell."

"HMMPH."  Ah, yes. "Hmmph."  Because she's not allowed to say things like "Oh, you're one of THOSE people." in a work environment. I politely ignored her semi-syllabic jab as I waited for her to finish searching the system for the book.  She did find the listing, but the book isn't out yet.  I thanked her for help and walked away.

I took a minute to check Facebook on my phone, because apparently I can't go five minutes without finding out if someone has "lol'ed" my status update.  While I was doing that, there was a frail looking girl in her 20's manning the check-out counter.  But as I started to walk toward her, the customer service bitch went over and told her to take her lunch break.  Well... FUCK.

So I put my book down and took out my debit card.  But of course she can't resist the chance to once again let me know what the fuck she thinks.  "Yeeeeah.  Not Taco Bell material, huh?  Yeah, I think he's more like Burger King material!"

Now, if you've known me for more than 10 minutes, you know that I'm the kind of asshole his always getting into it with people who can't seem to keep their mouth shut.  What you may not know about me is that I don't actually enjoy fighting with people.  The unwavering stupidity of humanity just depresses the shit out of me.  When I walked into that store, all I wanted to do was buy some books and go about my business.  The last thing I needed was ghetto Statler and Waldorf taking out her fat fucking insecurity out on me.  And yes, I know that it's the height of hypocrisy for someone like me to criticize someone for their weight.  But if I'm "morbidly obese", this chick was "desperately seeking weight watchers". Also? She was a cunt. So fuck her.

What the fuck is with people now where everyone needs to give you their gawdamn opinion on every fucking thing you do?  What the fuck happened to minding your own gawdamn business?  Yeah, I want to read Adam Carolla's books. So the fuck what?  I don't judge her for reading Twilight or the Tracy Morgan autobiography with the prickly end of a hairbrush in her pussy.  You get $6 a fucking hour to sell books, not to give me your G.E.D. -backed rendition of Mystery Science Theater 3000. So sell me my damn book and shut the fuck up.

The moral of this story? If you've got snark, shove it up your ass.

Math

Of our entire solar system and known space, an area so broad that you couldn't properly conceive of the distance even were you to see it expressed mathematically, only one planet currently sustains life forms.

On that planet, an unseen and unimaginable force caused thousands of species to sprout from nothing into existence over the course of billions of years.

Of those thousands of species, one has managed to become dominant, not through the act of breeding, but by sheer luck of evolutionary favorability.

This species evolved intellectually to the point where it has conceived of imaginary existences and fictional worlds that can be projected on screens, built constructs that operate themselves, artificially given itself the ability to fly and even created magic devices that remember thoughts and talk to all points on the planet at any given time.

Every sentence above is a miracle so mathematically improbable, so intellectually unfathomable that we cannot conceive of words to properly express them.

Yet 99% of people will never know nor appreciate this fact.