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Return Lines Suck

return-lines-suck

Christmas Day has come and gone

No carols, sleigh bells, or jingly songs.

No family crowds no care in sight,

On to returning things we now dislike.


Despite the lines we persevere

With reasons dull and insincere

2 hours long, one sad cashier,

my toxic tongue, still cavalier.


I prayed for her an hour before,

With hordes of us now at her door

I swore that I would be real nice

a small return, that would suffice—


An hour past now I’ve forgot

The reason why I’m at this spot

My face now red and burning hot

I’d like a beer, a whiskey shot


What madness here has settled in?

With anger as a synonym

Our patience wearing very thin,

Plasma boiling straight through my skin


I said I prayed for her before,

Now for her head I’m calling for.

Just give the man his just return

This product sucks we’ve clearly learned


This time of year just be supine,

And know by now we’ve lost our minds

Just give us what we really need

A manager to intercede


Another soul to tear apart

Someone who knows the rules by heart

At least someone who’s semi-smart

Not you, some punk ass kid from start.


The lies contrived to make this swift,

To gift myself the proper gift

My money back I did insist,

I hoped the worker won’t resist


A song and dance, laid out once more,

Enough to get me out the door

With cash in hand no looking back,

A midday snack and then relax.


With one more store atop the list,

Another try to coexist.

If they create an animus,

I might seek some more cannabis.

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