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.