An Open Letter to the Woman on the Phone at the Grocery Store Who Kept Referencing “Sex and the City”

Dear Woman on the Phone at the Grocery Store This Morning Who Referenced Sex and the City Three Times…That I Know of,

Stop. Stop. It.

No one gives a crap if you’re a Samantha or a, well, I don’t know who the other characters are. But no one cares if you’re TOTALLY HAVING A SEX AND THE CITY MOMENT HERE IN THE BAKING GOODS AISLE. Look, honestly, I don’t even know what the hell that means. But you sounded like a moron.

You sounded like a moron in front of the organic chicken when you were discussing cocktails. You also sounded like a moron in the vitamin aisle where you totally blocked my access to my favorite gummy vitamins. Do not block my access to gummy vitamins. They are both candy AND a way to maintain a healthy lifestyle.  Each time something was TOTALLY SEX AND THE CITY, you sounded ridiculous.

And, so, when you finally put down your phone and got down to serious shopping, I was less than thrilled every time you took your half in the middle. Now, honey, those aisles at Kroger are nice and wide but when you make it so the 115 year-old lady and I can’t get around you, you just annoy me even more. THAT LADY NEEDED HER SUGAR WAFERS! Because apparently sugar wafers, bananas, and ice cream are all you eat when you are really old. Which is awesome. But you would not get your designer-jean clad, Miu Miu knockoff ass out of the way. Why? I dunno. MAYBE THAT’S NOT WHAT SAMANTHA WOULD HAVE DONE. Who knows? But your need to read the back of every single box of crackers IN THE MIDDLE OF THE AISLE made it difficult for Grandma Moses and me to get our Oreos and move on.


I doubt you’re reading this. I’m sure you’re off at Anthropologie right now giving some poor sales associate PURE HELL because they don’t have those mirrored, feathered martini glasses you saw on some Housewives show. And that’s okay. You gave me something to write about today, and I thank you for it. Moron.

Just spit it out, already!

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