Unreasonable Hatred

A confession "I'm Classist".
I don't know if there is such a thing, but I definitely suffer from it.
To explain, I had to renew my car tax yesterday and the nearest post office that does car tax is located in a nearby Waitrose supermarket.
I don't go there normally as the prices are usually 50-100% higher than the local Morrisons, and it tends to be inhabited by the people who I have an irrational dislike of "the rich".
The car park is full of "Chelsea tractors" and the store has all those types that wander around in their Sunday best discussing whether to have Veal or Venison for dinner tonight or should they try the Wood pigeon or Wild Mallard duck.
Anyway I get my car tax and as I'm there I remember I need to get some Bread and milk, it might cost a bit more but saves me having to go in a different direction to another store.
I don't help my cause by being dressed in my usual scruffy attire, jeans with tears to knee and crutch (through use, not bought ready torn), paint splattered trainers and my usual Lonsdale T-shirt and jumper from the local cheapie sports shop.
So straight away I'm picking up on the "down the nose" looks from the customers, and the members of staff who seem to be glancing in my direction more than they should be.
After a 10 minute wander around trying to find the milk (and lots of head shaking about the unbelievable prices) I get what I came for (even the milk is divided into various speciality versions?).
I get to the till and some middle aged woman in her expensive clobber is in front of me, basic common decency should usually exist in that she would put the "next customer" sign on the belt after her shopping, but No I just get the down the nose look as she stands in my way while her shopping disappears down the belt.
So I reach across to pick one up without touching her and she turns and says in her posh sarcastic voice "excuse me".
Now what I really want to say at this point is "Fuck you, you stuck up cunt" but I just say "sorry" and start putting my milk and bread on the conveyer.
Hatred is growing fast and is compounded by her "oh so posh" son turning up with her copy of "Horse and hound", "oh good you found it" she says as the till operator puts her stuff through.
A basket full of goods £28!! (could do a weeks shopping in Morrisons for that).
Finally I leave, hoping to see a busload of Muslim students with backpacks going in (sorry), with the words "stuck up cunts" going round in my head.

Jump in the car and an appropriate record comes on my CD player "Down in the sewer" by the Stranglers, crank it up as I drive through the car park.