After rescuing a turkey sandwich from the deli so it could take refuge in my stomach, I opened the door for an older woman who was entering as I was leaving. I'm used to not getting a "thank you," because New Yorkers, for the most part, can't be bothered with trifling things like courtesy or decency. I have never, however, gotten a sarcastic "thank you." Until today. The woman reacted to my holding the door for her as if I told her that her son in the army is a cunt and I hope he gets shot in the face by friendly fire. She then spat the "thank you" at me to the tune of "what have you done for me lately" and hefted her aged girth through the door with the haste of Gabe Silva at a popcorn store (wait, why am I slamming myself? She's the jerk! Jerk).
Anyway, I hope she trips over her own awful feet and lands face first into the buffet, preferably into the macaroni salad because it isn't particularly good there.