From: mgfrank@avernus.com (Marc G. Frank)
Subject: Supermarket buffalo
Organization: Maryland Appreciation Society
Date: Sun, 16 Aug 1992 02:41:41 GMT


Peeve: supermarket buffalo.

			*	*	*

"What!  *Another* peeve about supermarket buffalo?" you say.  "Has not
this topic been beaten unto death?  Must I tolerate yet another
rambling, incoherent essay 'pon the subject?  No," you conclude, "I
mustn't."  With that, your index finger flicks forth and darts to the
'n' key.  But for some unknown reason, you relax, and your finger drifts
back towards the space bar.  "Perhaps the author will expound upon some
new facet of supermarket buffalo, hitherto undiscovered," you think,
settling back to read the remainder of the post.

And your patience and tolerance will have been rewarded, for it is then
that the author reveals that this is *not*, in fact, yet another post
about supermarket buffalo.  Nay!  It is but a clever ruse to conceal the
fact that this is actually a driving peeve!

"No, wait!  Keep reading," begs the author imploringly, "this is an
interesting juxtaposition of these two peeves that might, just *might*,
have some sex in it."  Assured that he has secured your attention, the
author reverts to the first person.

			*	*	*

So there're these supermarket buffalo.  But these aren't your ordinary
supermarket buffalo, no sir, these buffalo have a touch of that little
extra something that makes them special.  The proverbial sparkling drop
of Retsyn, as it were.  For you see, rather than standing in the middle
of the aisle staring slack-jawed at the vast and wondrous panorama of
salad dressings arrayed before their hungry eyes, paralyzed by the
enormous choice they know they now must face in choosing the salad
dressing to purchase, they were instead standing in the middle of the
right northbound lane on NY 277 staring slack-jawed at the vast and
wondrous panorama of traffic moving into the left lane before their
dull, unseeing eyes, paralyzed, apparently, by sheer stupidity.

Five or six of them.  Just *standing* there.  In the *road*.  Not, mind
you, on the shoulder, but squarely in the middle of the right lane.
They were the sort of people that one would be tempted to call
"pedestrians" if they were, in fact, moving, which they were not.

Peeve: That I did not take the Proper Course of Action.  All my feeble
little brain could come up with at the time was the startlingly original
tactic of flipping them off as I passed in the newly-and-otherwise-
unnecessarily-entered left lane.  I also managed to make a fairly
eloquent speech, consisting primarily, if not entirely, of the phrase
"get the fuck off the road!"  The efficacy of this was mitigated,
however, by the closedness of the windows.

!Peeve: The Proper Course of Action.  The PCA, of course, would have
been to have approached the buffalo (or "road kill," as they're
technically known) at upwards of sixty-five miles per hour, slamming on
the brakes and screeching to a halt with my front bumper two inches from
their calves, leaning on the horn all the while.  I would then (and this
is the key point) *open* the window and shout "get the fuck off the
road!"  Having done this, I would back the car up about twenty yards,
rev the engine, and floor it, irrespective of whether or not the buffalo
were in my way.  If they were, I would express my deep and heartfelt
regret and remorse by backing up over their shattered bodies (which
would be writhing in considerable pain on the hot asphalt, clinging
desperately to life) and having another go at them, leaving only a
splattered mess of blood and gore.  Then I would hurry home and switch
plates with my rather dimwitted neighbor, who has recently been arrested
for grand larceny (Mega!Peeve: neighbors with cordless phones).  Faced
with the the dilemma of whether it's my car with his plates or his car
with my plates, he could most likely be convinced that the whole affair
was *his* fault.

UnrelatedPeeve: Certs with sparkling drops of Retsyn, Scope (now with
T-two-five!), etc.  Do they *really* think we're going to buy Certs
instead of Life Savers because it has Retsyn?  What *is* Retsyn, anyway?
"Duh, gee, that sure sounds scientific.  I'd better buy it!"

ExtraPeeve: I seem to be subconsciously worried about halitosis, since I
chose breath mints and mouthwash as examples.

			*	*	*

The author would like to apologize for the fact that this article had no
sex in it.

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| Marc G. Frank                                  mgfrank@avernus.com |
|                   I'd rather be in Eldersburg.                     |
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Xref: sparky alt.peeves:13402 alt.tasteless:8896