A Supermarket Hazard

You know those rare moments (for some not so rare) when you accidentally bang into or kick the corner of something & it hurts like a fucker. It hurts so bad that your eyes well up but you don't cry because once you become a responsible adult human you aren't supposed to show signs of weakness. Unless of course you are at home & no one's looking.

Well I am an angry hurt person. Surprise surprise. When people try to comfort me after I've injured myself I will take a swing at the air around them or roar profanities at them. They haven't actually done anything to me but it helps with my healing process if I have an actual person to abuse.

For some reason unbeknown to myself, all of the supermarkets in the city I live in have a one way system entry gate. I call them The Clackers because of the clackety noise they make when you walk through them. Please see picture below.

This photo is taken from the post entry side of The Clackers
@ Trafalgar ParkCountdown, Nelson

The clackers are like giant metal mouths with long steel teeth. Because of the aforementioned one way system they pertain, once you're in, you're in. I'm not sure why they have these. One can only assume it's so people can't steal shit.

For reasons that remain unexplained the clackers & I do NOT get on. Yesterday was a particularly bad day.

I have been so traumatised by these clackety gates that yesterday afternoon I spent a couple of minutes analysing the situation before I attempted to walk through them. I considered getting down on the floor & crawlng underneath them but I didn't want to embarass Blake & time wasn't on my side. I just had to wing it.
Now let me reiterate. The long steel teeth only move one way so if you work against them they will stab you in the leg. Which is exactly what happened to me yesterday. Blake asked me a question about mandarins whilst walking through the clacker gate & as I turned to reply to his question the stupid fucking thing stabbed me in my thigh.

I howled in agony. Furiously rubbing at the spot on my thigh where it had bit me. And boy did I swear my head off. A fruit department boy came over & asked me if I was ok to which I replied 'fuck off fruit boy your gate is a c**t'. (FYI - I am actually a lady & I'm rather agin to using the C word, but sometimes, especially when overwrought with pain, there just isn't any other swear word right for the occasion).

A girl I recognised from my school days was putting her hands over her little boys ears & trying not to look at me. An old lady filling a bag of mushrooms stood & watched mouth agape. Poor Blake was trying to comfort me as I sat on the ground taking pathetic swings at the air while trying not to cry. It completely ruined my grocery shopping experience.

I have had numerous stabbings in my buns & thighs by these stupid bloody gates. And I never even try to go the wrong way through them. They just don't like me. I have also had a pocket ripped off one of my beautiful cardigans & one handbag strap broken. I also won't forget the many times I've attempted to walk through & my clothes get caught on them & yank me backwards. These gates are a HAZARD.

You would think that due to the fact my thighs & ass have sufficient padding on them it wouldn't hurt as much. Well that is a complete fabrication. Fat has feelings too you know.

I've decided to write a letter to all the supermarket owners of my city & suggest something a little more pain friendly. Something like this perhaps?

See this security gate makes more sense to me. There is nothing about this gate that screams hazard. Except for if you are 60cm tall & get your head slammed between them? It still serves the same purpose of stopping the thieves escaping & is much safer to the general non stealing customer like myself.

I am interested to know if anyone else has had a run in with the supermarket clacker gate.

Or is it just me?


Bx

Becky fact for today: Contraire to my constant talk of violence I have only ever actually punched 2 people in my life. The transvestite who molested me on the bus in Auckland & Kyle, the boy with the lisp who I caught pashing up my drunk & vulnerable younger sister at a party when I was 16. He was MY boyfriend. I boofed him in the face. It was awesome. I then found a bike with 2 flat tyres round the back of the house where the party was & proceeded to ride it home in the rain crying. He arrived at our house an hour later & threw stones at my bedroom window yelling how sorry he was. Oh how I love the drama.