CRACKHEAD LOVE AT THE KEY FOOD

I was on the long-as-always line for the express checkout at the local Key Food supermarket today when the attention of myself and every other on-line patron was caught by a a woman causing a fuss on a checkout line a few rows down from where I was. The woman was clearly zonked on something and loudly berated her mindlessly-grinning male companion while she pulled item after item onto the checkout counter's conveyor belt. Loud, seemingly insane... Yep, these were crackheads, and things were about to get interesting.

"Muthafukka, you tellin' me to save muthafukkin' money... YOU AIN'T MY MAN, MUTHAFUKKA! YOU AIN'T MY MAN!" The hapless male crackhead huh-huh'ed to himself in a vain attempt at shrugging off his public humiliation and wittily countered with "You be runnin' yo' mouf an' shit...ain't impressin' no muthafukkin' body..." This Pinteresque exchange went on for a good five minutes, utterly holding up the line that they were on and trying the patience of the justly-nervous checkout girl until the two morons just abruptly walked out of the store, leaving behind a mountain of groceries that were easily worth around $200.

The relieved checkout girl exclaimed "That shit was ridiculous!" and I commented with a black woman in front of me and a West Indian man behind me that it was a good thing that only two white people witnessed the embarrassing display, since it would have been yet another citable example of us highly-rhythmic individuals as boorish, drug-addicted vermin who bring down property values. Ah, the free entertainment that is the Five Boroughs.