The Fermentation of Anger

   Okay, I'm going to lay the truth out for you and you alone [yes, I'm talking to YOU tubby], right here on the table.

   I. LOVE. Being. Angry!

  Anger is like passion. No, anger IS a passion. A level of passion into which your personal inner-emotional-scales which are usually, for me, balanced levels between inner-peace and outrage have been out-weighed so drastically that you just NEED to do some thing. Sitting on your arse is just no longer an option! Something MUST be done!

  That “something” nowadays tends to be going into 'Game Station' to buy new emotional balancing scales  in the form of the latest big name game release and maybe a cup cake from Greggs for those especially traumatic moments.

  Political moments that is.

  Other moments. . . . my usual cure is brandishing a machete, coated in petrol, and on fire.

  One of these such moments occurred the other day. Which is why I just LOVE working in retail.

It was hour X of 12 hour shift and I was already feeling the brunt of it though I had a good many hours left ahead of me [however doing these long shifts on a day in day out basis has left me some with some kind of tough, protective skin over my soul. I'm sure one day will come in handy when the white suits finally come to give me my own 'happy' jacket of my very own. It also means I'm well prepared for the cold and lonely time spent in nursing homes in later life].

  Example of events in my life that make me angry:

[Disclaimer - certainly events, names or dialogue has been changed to protect the innocent. Mainly, me.]

  In walks, unsurprisingly for retail, a customer. Quick as a lick I spring dispose of my biography of comedy and political genius Bill Hicks and into action.

  "Good afternoon, good sir!" I may have declared "How can I help you today?"

   "Yeah." He replied "Do you have any alcohol-free champagne?"

       -Intermission-

  For those whom are fortunate enough to NOT be in the know by not working with the public on a daily basis - normal people, every day people, maybe even people you know [but certainly not I!] are all f**king fools. In honesty I don't think it is entirely their fault, and I'm not one of these people whom believes that because some one is uneducated that they are capable of a lesser-intellectual capability [a misconception which seems to be blindly thrown around a LOT these days]. But true foolishness stems not from people's lack of knowledge - nope. Not even from their lack of I.Q. - no sir. But from their complete disregard to be informed beyond their scope of the world and how things actually work. 

  The 'Fools' are a very proud people. Instead of choosing to admit the possibility of their own failings they chose to believe that it is some how they whom are the intellectual superiors [despite all evidence to the contrary by confusing intellect and being informed] and continue on with a smug sense of satisfaction that they are some how in the right and everyone else is wrong.

  No. Not like me. Because I am ALWAYS right.

        -End of Intermission-

  Alarm bells ring. Here is a man whom does not know his alcohol. My first reaction is to simply tell him the answer.

  "No sir, we don't sell non-alcoholic champagne . . ." 

  Aaaaand that is where I should have left it. However, being the informed man I am, and having a personal crusade against 'idiotism' that is plaguing the West worse then cholera in Haiti, decided to do my civic duty as some one with the working title of 'Wine Advisor' should and to actually do my job and advise said customer.

  ". . . I don't believe there is such thing as non-alcoholic champagne."

        -2nd Intermission-

  I even looked it up to be sure and here is a link to a site I found to prove myself http://www.alcoholfree.co.uk  

  Note: Trade secret: Sparkling wine is not the same as champagne for one reason and one reason only...it's not made in Champaigne, the region of France. That. Is. It. But don't tell the rich people. Fucking idiots.

  If there is one thing the fool truly hates more then anything else, is having their perception of reality challenged.

       -End 2nd Intermission-

  "That's ridiculous!" he proclaimed and quite well observed added "There is non-alcoholic larger. You sell non-alcoholic larger so why not non-alcoholic champagne?"

  Not so well observed. We don't sell non-alcoholic larger. The extent of our non-alcoholic range can, and will, still kill you but in a different kind of way that only cigarettes and fatty crisps can do. Heart attacks and cancer. The quiet killers. Unlike drunks whom tend to be quite loud about it.

  "Well, Sir, it's obviously that we, as a wine company, don't specialise in non-alcoholic products. Plus wine and larger are two very different products made in different ways -"

  "Right. Right."

  He cut me off! The ignorant man cut me off!!

  My eye develops a nervous twitch at being challenged, on my turf, by a mere mortal. The edge of my peripheries are slowly changing to a light red colour. Pink, of you will.

  Then curiosity hit me, and the mist subsides some what as rational thinking takes over and I just had to ask: "Sorry, mind if I ask why you need non-alcoholic champagne?"

  "Its for the kids." He retorts back.

  Alarm bells are going ape-shit in my mind. Like church-bell ringers so full of cocaine they fart white clouds. Yep. That pink shit is looking more like red now. He is giving, or trying to, give a variant on alcohol to kids? And one that does not even exist? What kind of creature is this man?!

  "Right." is all I manage to respond with.

  My will is strong, and I stick to my guns and try to be helpful once again. Where all else fails with the fool, NEVER resort to aggression.

  "How about you try grape juice with some soda water or lemonade in? Grape juice is basically un-alcoholic champagne as it has not been through the fermentation process. Plus kids love lemonade. You see -"

  He turned. Walked away from me as I was talking. Got to the door. Turned around and looked at me.  Laughed. Then left.

  Laughed!

  I've really got to get a bolt for that door, or a shotgun or some thing.