On the Pleasure of Hating
You know who I hate, hate with an intemperate loathing? That guy at the grocery store last night who insisted that his apple be re-weighed because .447 pounds seemed a little high for just one Granny Smith.
It was late, there was one only one cashier working, and several people were in line. And this
guy stupid fuck insisted, after his groceries had all been totaled up, that his apple purchase be re-examined. Even in the light of a new day I still hate him.
“Love turns, with little indulgence, to indifference or disgust: hatred alone is immortal.” William Hazlitt