Purgatory...

OK so you get to the front of the express '10 items or less' checkout despite having about 20 items in your handbasket. You think that because all of your crap is in a basket that it doesn't matter that it's twice the number it should be. The wee lassie at the till points this numerical error out but you just ignore her. She shrugs and begins to scan your shit while you fish in your pocket for your phone and check for emails or some other pointless shit. The checkout lassie asks you three times for payment. You fish in your pockets again for your wallet and hand her some notes before quickly grabbing them back from her (and giving the wee lassie a fucking fright in the process) then sticking your card in the wee machine-thing instead.
So you've finally paid, put your card and wallet away, scanned your receipt in case the wee lassie has tried to rip you off. It's at this point you might have heard a voice from the queue behind you - a big fucking queue now - telling you to get a move on (it was me).
You slowly and deliberately pack your more-than-ten items, constantly looking about yourself like some fucking paranoid nutbag. You use one bag for a loaf of bread, you wasteful turd, then you double bag it. Finally you fuck off just a millisecond before I was about to rip your fucking head off and shove it up your arse...
A seriously inconsiderate bellend. More annoying than any dementia-ridden old ratbag or twat who can't find their purse/wallet/bollocks in a bag, this guy was an out-and-out cunt. I hope he gets beaten to death by any number of people who he's pissed off in any way - and I'm certain there's about 1,000,000,000 of them - and his battered body crapped on by a huge horse with diarrhoea...