eMacs and "Matrix" fanfic plot-bunnies

I've reached a decision regarding the new computer I've been talking about buying:

I'm getting a Mac.

Ruby and Laurie have been encouraging me to get a Mac, and someone in a discussion over on GAFF also added their two cents when I mentioned the nasty memory problems I'm having with my present comp, and how I *was* planning to buy a Dell. My reticence in buying a Mac had to do with the fact that I want to join in the MxO, and I didn't think I'd be able to run the software from a Mac, until this kind person pointed out the Virtual PC program in new Macs.

So, I took a look at apple.com, and lo and behold, they had an eMac G4 with just the specs I needed/wanted, at two-thirds what I'd have to pay for a Dell with the same specs (this, after customizing said Dell). What's more, there's an Apple store up in the Rockingham Mall, a half-hour's drive from here, in sales tax-free New Hampshire. Thus, my mind is made up.

And because of this fic: http://www.fanfiction.net/s/1390153/1/ I'm fighting off silly "Matrix" fic plot-bunnies. Read it first, or you won't understand the notes behind the cut, and you'll miss out on a good laugh. ( Killer plot bunnies in little black suits and shades )

Nicked from crowdog66 and <lj site="livejournal.com" user="monnia

( Yep, that fits me, non? )

Inconsiderate much? ((Cross-posted from customerssuck ))

This happened shortly before I got off shift today, next to the last customer... A woman comes into the lane with one of those carriages with a bench-like seat on wheels attached to the back end of the cart, with a berserk little boy and a giddy little girl sitting on that bench. The cashier, whom we'll call "Annie", was ringing through the last few items of the previous order which belonged to a quiet, older gent with an almost Buddha-like calm, when the little girl starts scooping stuff out of the carriage and slamming it down on the conveyor belt, right behind the calm guy's stuff. Calm Guy regards this with a raised eyebrow; the little girl starts shrilling out, "THIS OUR STUFF! THIS IS OUR STUFF!" Calm Guy managed to sneak one of those long heavy plastic strips you're supposed to seperate your orders with (I've worked for the company for four years, but d'yah think I know what they're called besides "the divider thingys"? Anyone know what the official name for those things are?) in between his fresh veggies and the kids' Twinkies and boxes of "Choco-Rox" (Yes, I made that product name up).

Calm Guy pays for his stuff and goes away down his tranquil path. Meanwhile, the woman with the two bratz is piling stuff on the conveyor belt, in between jabbering with her kids and getting stuff off the shippers in the middle of the front main aisle. Never once does she push the cart down to the end of the lane so I can put the stuff in it, thus, now the bags are piling up at the end and I can't reach over all that stuff to get at the rest of the stuff coming down at me. Annie stopped ringing stuff through, waiting for the woman to push the carriage down to me... and we waited... and waited... and waited. Meanwhile, the woman, with the help of the little boy, is still grabbing stuff off the shippers and the girl is now using the carriage for a jungle gym.

Annie asked the woman to push the carriage down, but apparantly the woman didn't hear her. Or couldn't hear over her own voice and her kids jabbering, whichever. I finally ran out of patience and went to get the carriage. The woman's attention finally gets diverted to the clerks waiting on her: I'd barely gotten ahold of the carriage, with the girl climbing on it, when the woman calls out: "Don't take her away from me! You can just walk up here and put the stuff in."

Honestly. I wanted to get right in this woman's face and say to her: "Listen: I've had a long shift. I'm hot, I'm tired. My back is tired, my feet are tired. I don't really have the energy to walk back and forth all the way up and down this lane, carrying your heavy bags of groceries, when you can push the damn cart down here and I can just drop them in. To hear you say it, I'm kidnapping your despicable excuse for a daughter and holding her for ransom to the tune of her weight in platinum. Be a little considerate of the person who's waiting on you and push the damn carriage down here. I'm not your slave!"

What I wound up saying: Nothing. I just bit the bullet and lugged the stuff all the way back and forth. At least Annie had the decency to help me out, by handing the bags up to me, so I didn't have to make many trips.

A few years hence, this woman will be wondering why her lazy-ass teenagers can't be bothered to do anything for themselves...

Well, needless to say, the woman got hers anyway: when her back was turned, I noticed a sack with a couple bags of potato chips in it was drooping over the side, so I turned it around, so it wouldn't fall. I don't think she noticed how firm my grip was on the sides of that sack, but when she opens one of the bags of chips, she'll be opening a bag of slightly crushed chips.

More Nuisances...

http://www.neilgaiman.com/journal/2005/09/tour-info-toronto-boston-cbgbs.asp

Come to find out that the book signing requires tickets and they've sold out. Drat. Sorry folks....