Stockpile Your Food… It’s Gonna Happen Soon!

“What am I stockpiling food for?” you ask.

Well, let me tell you.

I believe I have witnessed where the Zombie Apocolypse is going to happen….

Right next door to my house!

You see, I live next to a gas station. Every morning to go to this gas station and get a cappuccino, a tea for Hubs, and a huge Mountain Dew for myself for later in the day.

Today, I did the same thing as usual. I got my capp, got the hubs tea and my drink, and went up to stand in line at the register.

“You’ll need to wash your hands real good after you touch that money. I’ve been sick as a dog,” says the woman in front of me. She runs out of the gas station to her car to get more money (she didn’t have enough change I guess). The cashier and I exchange a look. Uhm… What?

The woman comes back in and and puts the money down on the counter. “I don’t want to touch you since I’ve been so sick. Seriously, wash your hands real good. It’s bad.”

Luckily, the cashier had a bottle of GermX there, and once the woman was out the door and gone, slathered her hands in the stuff.

I have witnessed the birth of the Zombie Apocolypse. I’m convinced of it.

I’m ordering this shirt!

What person in their right mind would go out into the world when they’ve been so sick, they are still contagious?

I mean, I get that this woman was trying to be polite in her warnings of washing hands, but come on! That is just ridiculous!

Now, don’t get me wrong. I’m not a germaphobe. I have two kids and am constantly around those crazy little things that cause colds and flu and such.

But a grown woman, sick as she is, contagious as she is, cannot avoid going out into the world to buy… CIGARETTES!!!

I’m a smoker, myself. I understand the addiction that comes with smoking. I get it… But I do not go out to get cigarettes if I am SICK AND CONTAGIOUS in such a horrible way that it requires dire warnings to wash hands! “Seriously.”

*End Rant*

About Katie Doyle

Katie Doyle is an avid reader, writer of NA and Adult fiction, a mom to two tornadoes that resemble an eight and six year old, and pet to a tuxedo cat named Oz and a German Shepherd/Boxer rescue named Charlie. If she's not reading, writing, or getting Oz out of a tree, she's screaming at characters on TV and trying not to curse around her kids.
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