Excuse me, the end of the line is OVER THERE (bitch)

As I mentioned in the last blog there was a little story involved with meeting Captain Sig Hansen - so sit down get comfy but bypass the drink because you are just gonna get piss hopping mad on my behalf and jump out of your chair and scream "What the...." - it is okay, I would be mad on your behalf if the tables were turned.

There we were in line at the Alaska Walking Store in 5th Avenue Mall. Being in line is booooooring. Being in line for 45 minutes and having snails move faster than you is painful. I was seriously sitting there thinking "hmmm, I could totally gestate and birth a kid quicker than I can get through this line of Deadliest Catch Junkies". Anyhow, 45 minutes or so of being in line and playing "I Spy..." with the boys (who finally learned the differences between open toed sandles and hiking boots by looking at miles and miles of shoes) had left me borderline foul mouthed and we still had about 15 minutes easily to go and then all hell broke loose. This rude inconsiderate woman and her equally rude and inconsiderate friend were waiting or shall I say lurking around a shelf of shoes for "just the right" moment to cut in front of someone because they were too stupid to figure out that the end of the line was WAAAAY far in back. When little miss bared midrift and her friend camel toes asked to cut in front of me I was polite even though I wanted to take the nearest stilleto and gouge her eyes out. I stepped back and made room for them and explained to the boys that it was okay to let them cut in front. So there they were, in front of me and did I mention that between them they had 7 kids all under 4. Yeah....strollers and wandering toddlers. UGHHHHH. After watching their children dismantle a shelf of shoes, dump out a box of crackers, puke on the person in front of them, bite each other and then take off running through the store it was finally time for them to meet Captain Sig. And guess what. They each had shirts to have signed but not just one each - oh no, between them they had 10 shirts and they all had to be autographed to a specific person and they weren't organized enough to plan that out before hand. "Oh sign this one to Annie May....and this one to Bubba Joe....and shoot I forgot to get one for granny so hold my spot I will be right back let me run over and buy this here shirt" - after 5 minutes or more of shirt signing they then wanted pictures. First it was little miss bare midrift and she had to fluff her titties, tease her hair and then drape herself over Captain Sig. Then her friend camel toes jumped in and had to give a gushing speech about how sexy Captain Sig was "in real life" before she too draped herself over him. Then it was pictures of him with each child by his or her self, then one with each mama and her offspring, and then one with all the children in it and finally 15 minutes or more had passed and they were gone and it was Quinn's turn. I wanted so badly to say "Bitch please..." and then grab her assorted offspring (who easily all had different daddies) and manuever them out of the store (and yeah I am narcissitic enough to think that they whole place would be cheering me on) - I also wanted to to kind of channel my inner trailer trash and start talking smack to her "ohh look at that, looks like your little baby has impetigo, do you bathe her in swamp water?" but of course I couldn't do that and really I know her kid doesn't have impetigo, it is just covered in Alaskan love bites from our state bird - the mosquito. So yeah I bit my tongue but inside I was a seething mess and when my baby boy finally got his picture and his signed T-shirt I started to recover but when Quinn looked at me and said "the nerve of some people huh" I wiped a tear from my eye because I know I am raising good boys - unlike little miss bare midrift and camel toe, their trashy offspring will probably end up jacking cars in Mt. View and shaking their money makers at the Bush Company.