Don said it best, so why would I try to upstage him?

I drop by the local convenience store for a Red Bull to get me through tonight's soporific statistics class. Huh. The four-pack is cheaper. Hell, we KNOW I'll drink 'em. So I grab the four-pack.

At the counter is a woman who, while not young, is not nearly old enough to account for her toothlessness. Said lack of dentition is made most evident by the lateral jaw motion that she keeps making to set and reset her dentures, which causes her to do a credible impression of an ungulate chewing cud. I plop down my pack of taurine and caffeine, and give an audible gasp when she rings it up. Sure, it's cheaper than a six pack of my preferred beer, but it runs a little higher than most twelve-packs of cola. Yikes. I hand her my debit card.

She runs it through the swipe strip at about 2 inches a second. Sssswiiiiiipe. Not surprisingly, it does not work. She does it again, running it through slower, this time taking four full seconds to negotiate the 4" channel. I force a smile, and mention that this card likes to go fast. I can feel the line of customers grow behind me. This of course makes her take pause, cocking her hand on her hip as she declares (I just wanted her to go! Go! This card has worked three times today on the first swipe. It's NEVER failed. Ev. Er.) that it does look pretty old, at that. She then goes straight to the plastic bag trick, as referenced by Don Gwinn a year or two ago.

"It really doesn't need that." I protest. "It works fine..."

She swipes it quickly and with a smooth flick, and it works. Just like it was designed to, when the card is swiftly drawn through the swipe slot. She smiles triumphantly and says, "See? Works every time."

"Yes," I say, looking pointedly at my card as I put it back into my wallet. "It does."

I'm sure she's a wonderful person. Kind to children and small animals, and such.
So why do I hate her soooooooo much, just now?