Who is the first Unicorn Butter Woman?

Here it is.

The first ever Unicorn Butter Woman.

I debated with myself should this honour be called an “award” and decided not.  I think that being a Unicorn Butter Woman is really better than any award.  When you are amazing enough to be a Unicorn Butter Woman you really don’t need awards. You are beyond awards.  You are just that fucking cool.  After all you are a Unicorn Butter Woman.  It’s like walking on the Moon.  After that what else is there to do?

I was having trouble deciding who should be the very first woman to get this honour and let me tell you it was a difficult decision.  A few things were going around my mind.  Most of them involving naked women giving me massages and feeding me olives.  Then I realized I was out of olives.  Oddly enough there were no naked women around that I could send to the store for an olive run.

Apparently I was going to have to get off my ass and do something if I wanted olives.  And I wanted olives.  Thus off to the store did I voyage.

I arrived at my local grocery store to discover the usual annoyingly long lines that occur at this time of day.  I found my olives.  Checked out some hot chycks.  One of them was getting diapers and dog food.  Failure on two counts.  The other one was shopping with her excuse for a bore friend.  I mean boy friend.  For the record I don’t mind if chycks have a boy friend (in fact that has some advantages) but I have noticed that flirting with them in front of the boy friend is usually (usually I said) not effective.

Now tha't what I'm shopping for.

Now tha't what I'm shopping for.

I got my olives and continued debating on the question of the first Unicorn Butter Woman.  The chyck with the boy friend was a possible contender but the boy friend looked like a punk and a real Unicorn Butter Woman can do better than him. So I had to pass her up.

I swung by the ice cream section ’cause I really need some ice cream.  What I really need is to get my ass out and do some running.  But ice cream is almost as good.  I grabbed a handful of your mom’s ass – I mean chocolate ice cream with fudge – I was thinking about your mom’s ass.  Specificity I was considering should I make the first Unicorn Butter Woman your mom.  After all your mom did rock my nut sack that one weekend.  But then I remembered that your mom does that for all the guys with $20 to blow.

Plus she didn’t abort you when she had the chance.  Not cool.

By this time I’m heading up to the checkout and as usual I picked the wrong line to get into.  I was behind an old woman.  Or maybe a man.  When people get really old it can be hard to tell.  But I’m pretty sure it was a woman.  Anyhow the young lady running the register scanned the groceries and informed the old hag – I mean senior citizen – of the total amount.  At this point grandma decides to open her purse and extract some money.  She couldn’t have done this before the total was rung up of course.  That might actually speed things along.

I always get in line behind this woman.

I always get in line behind this woman.

Meanwhile the checkout girl is bagging the groceries.  When finished with the task she puts out her hand to get the money from grandma before the woman dies and turns to dust – which at the rate she is moving is starting to look like it might happen.  At this point the old hag speaks up and announces that she is certain the whatever the fuck it was is on sale and the sale price didn’t ring up.

Now I’m all about getting the sale price.  I’m a cheap bastard.  Just ask your mom.  But the old woman started to haggle with the cashier chyck over a difference of seven cents.

Yes, you read that right.  Seven fucking cents.

A nickel and two pennies.

I never carry around change ’cause I throw it all in a jar when I get home.  But if I would have had a dime I’d have given it to her and told her to get her ass out of my way ’cause I wanted to get home and eat my olives before I’m also on Social Security.

Alas I did not have a dime.

I never get in line behind her. Freakin' never.

I never get in line behind her. Freakin' never.

I’m getting to the Unicorn Butter Woman. Wait for it.  Patience is a virtue.  At least it is in people who aren’t me.

Some additional haggling and the old bag got her seven cents.  Order was restored and she was now free to scoot out of my way in epic slow motion.

I now engaged in the revolutionary act of removing the money from my pocket before the bill was totalled (old people take note) so I could pay for my groceries the same day I went to the store for them. I also said hello to the grocery store checkout clerk chyck.  She greeted me with a big smile and pleasant comments and we make a few jokes totally unrelated to old people and both had some laughs.

That’s when I decided who the first Unicorn Butter Woman would be.  Yes, I finally got to it.  Keep your pants on.  Unless you’re hot.  Then you can take ’em off.

It’s the grocery store checkout clerk chyck who puts up with old people that should be locked up in nursing homes to die and then still has the energy and personality to be nice to an ass hole who spend more time at the grocery store checking out women’s asses than he does selecting food.

I mean who the hell buys nothing but olives and chocolate ice cream with fudge swirls?  Really?

This girl had been putting up with shit from idiots all day long and was still cheerful and friendly.  That requires some positive attitudes towards life.  Attitudes that I’m thinking I don’t share.

That’s just a guess.

So there is it.  Grocery store checkout clerk chyck – you are this weeks Unicorn Butter Woman for your ability to deal with endless bullshit, unlimited stupid people, and me all while maintaining a smile, sense of humour, personality and control over your desire to kill people. Especially since much of the killing would be totally justified.

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