I was frantically searching for a couple bricks of butter in haste at a local hypermart in my desperate bid to avoid the rush hour traffic. And boy, it sure is hard to look for something in particular when you’re in a hurry. After searching a few aisles down the vast hypermart floor, I finally found the dairy department… with a cow standing on 2 legs blocking off my view. o_O
I was initially locking my vision on a set of cute butt belonged to a hypermart chick who was stooping down to tag some milk cartons, when that obese shapeshifter started to flail her hands uncontrollably like that and was shouting at a little girl inside her cart, whom I reckon must be her daughter of 5? Yeah. That was how she piqued my attention, in a negative way. (ever since I became a parent, my sensitivity towards potential psychopaths has multiplied by a thousand folds – even when I’m not with my baby. Like, you’ll never know if anyone’s going to snap and start kidnapping babies or something).
So this shapeshifter full of organic fertilizer was kinda irascibly loud there. My intrinsic alarm went off, just like that face recognition thingy that we often see on CSI. Bitch alert… bitch alert. You know, if I were to be a dog? I would have leapt at her on compulsion and rip her fucking windpipe out. Just to give you the idea on how bad her vibes were. But I ain’t a dog… so, that didn’t happen. Instead, I plodded my steps carefully through the ample space left by her colossal ass on the aisle and went on with my business to get my butter.
But just as I was about half the journey past the grease planet, a rather shocking sight unfolded before my eyes. The bitch lifted her dimpled overgrown lardy arm and pounded hard onto the kid’s thigh. **WHOPPPP!!** That blow, I reckon, was hard enough to take out a small mammal if it were to be applied to the right spot on the skull. The poor girl immediately buried her face into her own arms and bleated silently, probably a move that she had been doing many times, to avoid more swatting from her psychotic mom. The bitch then lifted her up like a ragdoll, and tossed her onto the plastic toddler seat (you know, those that came prefixed on shopping carts?). The kid landed hard on her side and sprawled horizontally across on it. Had it been a little bit harder, the little girl would have fallen onto the ground and god knows what kind of injury she would have gotten.
From what I manage to gather, the kid was actually asking to be seated onto the plastic seat… but apparently, the mom wasn’t too happy about it.. and went ballistic. That’s how a simple request was translated into a full fledged violence in public. And that really got me wondering, what the fuck was she thinking. Firstly, she shouldn’t have brought along her kid, knowing that they’re nothing but a bunch of self centered noise maker. Secondly, she shouldn’t have taken a cart with a toddler seat on it. The fat bitch could have taken a regular cart, since she didn’t want her daughter to sit on a toddler seat. Thirdly, having taken a cart with a toddler seat, WHY THE FUCK WOULDN’T SHE LET HER KID SIT ON IT???? I’m always a believer in effectiveness of corporal punishment, but this is way out of the ballpark. This is child abuse. And being all fucked up.
I was tempted to confront that violent mom, you know? Like tipping her over into the wedged fridge compartment? Then to REALLY rip out her windpipe with a brick of butter? But I decided not to… for following reasons:
1) It’s none of my business. I could have tried stopping the bitch from spanking her kids there and then, but it won’t be permanent (unless she’s dead – which would make that kid half an orphan – no good)
2) That was a big lady there. She’s like, the sea elephant of all cows. She could have possibly freaked even real full grown cows that moo, what more a puny human like me. It would be suicidal to provoke her – which would make my daughter half an orphan – no good.
3) I don’t like tampering around with the ecosystem. I believe the world exists in balance like a close looped chain. You remove one of the links, it’ll all go down like a deck of cards. Killing a cow is akin to removing a part of that important link. It’ll all go down and we all are gonna fucking die.
4) I forgot to wash my car last weekend.
Alright… those are just excuses if you couldn’t tell. I can make up a thousand of those. Part of me says that I could have done something about this. Maybe report to the authorities or something. But then, I just ain’t the type. I’m not Spiderman, or even that very kind uncle who smiles at everyone in the neighbourhood. I’ve been there and done that, and it bit me on the ass so hard, that I decided that it’ll be good for me to just be another regular person who doesn’t give a rat’s ass about anything. (Now, if you were to be in my shoes, what would you do?)
Right now, I can only hope the best for that girl, and the worst for that cow who hit her that day. A freak accident maybe, that somehow causes a plastic toddler chair to lodge inside her rectum… (cows have big rectum so it’s entirely possible)