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MAGAts Are a Cancer

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Welp. It’s been a while since anyone implied they wanted to throw some hands.

I went out grocery shopping for dinner the other day. All I needed to do was pick up some ginger and replace some cayenne pepper. In the aisle was me and my cart, two Black women and their cart, and we were all looking over spices.

An older dude tried to squeeze by, got stuck with his basket, got pissy, and started trying to angrily push my cart out of his way. I did the polite thing and said, “Ope, lemme move that out of the way for you,” and then slid the cart over some more.

No big deal, right?

Dude then tries to angrily shove by and muttered “Prick!” under his breath as he passed. Of course, in reply, I muttered, “Harrumph!”

He then continued to glare at me as he was looking for whatever he was looking for a bit farther down the aisle.

One of the women said to me that he didn’t even acknowledge them as he was trying to squeeze by.

I said, “Well, that’s cuz he’s on old racist who’s angry that he woke up today, still alive.”

The women laughed.

“I fuckin’ heard that, you prick!”

“I know. I wanted you to hear it.”

The women laughed again.

“I can’t wait till TRUMP wins in November, none of you will be laughing then!”

“Great. Racist, stupid, and MAGAt. That tracks.”

The women laughed again.

At this point he started ear-steaming and started with the whole “you gotta fuckin’ problem??!” posturing you get from impotent people who are all talk and he started salivating loudly something about, “Oh, funny guy! Tough guy! Okay tough guy, let’s take this out side and see how funny you really are! TOUGH GUY!”

So, I stood up straight, looked him directly in the eyes, and very calmly said, “Okay. Let’s all find out just how little I actually care about you.”

There was a pause, the women looked at me, then at him, he glared for a moment, and then stormed off towards the service desk ranting about how I just threatened his life, etc.

Me and the women kinda looked at each other, shrugged, and continued on with our shopping.

About 10 minutes later, I was in one checkout lane and the two women were in another. The MAGAt was STILL at the service desk, ranting and flailing his arms to the manager, as the three of us passed by.

“HIM! That one! He’s the one who threatened me! Those two saw it!”

The manager looked at me, “Sir, did you threaten this man?”

“Nope. Never met him before.”

One of the two women, behind me, piped up, “We were in the same aisle. He didn’t threaten anyone. We’re were all just shopping. He got mad cuz we didn’t get out of his way fast enough.”

“Okay,” said the manager. “Cool, thank you.”

The MAGAt started ranting at the manager even louder as we all walked out the exit.

One of those habits I picked up long ago is that I always like to park a decent distance away from a store’s entrance and/or around the corner, if I can help it. You never know when you might need to zig-zag through a parking lot.

After I got to my vehicle, I decided to sit for a few minutes to calm down, have a laugh about it, and watch the entrance from a distance.

About 10 minutes later he finally left the store, looking around the whole time, got in his car, and took off in a huff.

He never saw me.

I just wanted to go shopping in peace.


Yeah, MAGATs are a cancer. You cannot change my mind.

(If you feel the same, grab yourself a t-shirt!)

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