I was at the Kroger after my shift at the branch, just standing behind this woman—Mrs. Gable, one of our 'regulars' who smells like mothballs and geriatric entitlement—and the synaptic misfire was instantaneous. I was staring at the back of her permed head and suddenly my internal monologue wasn't a monologue anymore, it was a goddamn tactical strike. I had this overwhelming, visceral urge to just SCREAM the most heinous, socially ruinous vitriol right into her ear.