Trying to Buy Bagels Shouldn't Lead to an Existential Meltdown

I've got advice for those of you interested in acquiring freshly baked goods for reasonable supermarket prices, be prepared to seriously question your belief system, tear it down completely, and then reinvent it all within the span of 5 minutes, 34 seconds.

Do your best to picture this scenario with your already scoffing minds: I'm in the grocery store and just starting to come off of the high produced by having a cool blast of freshness invade my face as I walk in. My cart has the usual front right wheel that wants to turn left except when you back up, at which point it wants to just stop moving. I walk past the turning rotisserie chickens and thing, "If those chickens were any more golden, they'd be a Badger fan at a cheese castle." Anyway, just down the line from the display of rotating, glistening meat is the greatest sight for my sore eyes--the bagel bins.

I love the bagel bins! Maybe it's because they look just like the bins at a candy store. You know, the kind with the magnets just above the door that are harder to get away from than a toddler you didn't give enough Juicy Juice to. So I try to decide what kind of bagel to get first, and it's just too hard. Do I go for the egg? Chocolate Chip? Asiago? Onion? Or do I stay plain? So I pass out and wake up when the linoleum gets too cold for my face. Sure enough, nobody's around me because nobody recognizes anyone else when you're food shopping. You're there with one thought on your mind--"I'm freaking starving and I'm gonna get some food before I kill somebody!" I choose to go for the chocolate chip bagels first because they're a party in my mouth. But you just can't take chocolate chip bagels out of the bin. Hell no! You gotta get a bag first! So after I burn 25 calories trying to tear a plastic bag off the huge roll of plastic bags, I'm ready to grab a "sanitary 'grab food with this or you'll throw up'" tissue and get my bagels.

Holy crap! There's only three left! Better get 'em all. So I grab the first two, no problem. The third one sends me into a complete cluster****. What if somebody really really really needs this last chocolate chip bagel? What if their freaking life depended on it? Meanwhile, here I come along and grab this last bagel, but who knows the kind of death and destruction I could be starting? Let's say that a depressed housewife of 26 comes to the store looking for chocolate chip bagels. But then she gets there and sees there are none left. Couple this unfortunate disaster with her cheating husband, and you've got the perfect storm. She goes home, starts the divorce proceedings, takes all his money, and leaves the kids. The dad goes freaking ape and the kids grow up to be juvenile delinquents who laugh and throw eggs at cars as they leave the Delta Sonic--just to prove a point. So that means my careless bagel-hogging ended a marriage, sent a person into manic depression, and put a short end to the joy of motorists investing in a $12.99 Super Clean-Super Wash.

I know what you're thinking. "Geez, what a prick." Well, don't worry. I didn't take the last bagel. Hell, I'm not going to be responsible for becoming the next Tila Tequila. Instead, I did the professional thing and made sure to touch that last bagel with my BARE HANDS! That's right! No tissue!

Serves that next idiot right for trying to take that last bagel.