Give me the $&^% bar ya skell

There's people here that I have never seen anywhere else.
White people. White women particularly. White women who wear polarfleece jackets and sweats with clogs. 
And short ponytails. And they usually have straight lank brownish hair with blonde streaks in it. And no makeup. Like, seriously, I think it might be the same woman each time. For the decades I have lived here. These might be the same soccer moms I see with wraparound mirrored Oakley frames and a Starbucks commuter cup with their almond milk/chai/dash of self-importance latte...
These women I do not care for. It's nothing personal-and if that stereotype fits you-I am not being racist. But it's true. The mass majority of women I have issue with are of this stereotype. I pretty much can't stand you. I pray for you. But I also pretty much think you are awful.
These are the kind of women who stand in line at 8pm in Target with their items nearly checked out and they won't put the bar down on the checkout stand to delineate their items from yours. They have a box of Wheat Thins, a package of cheese and some lunch meat left and they are fiercely looking at their smartphones. All the while the plastic bar, the one that delineates their items from mine, is within their grasp. So I wait. I stand on my tippytoes and search for the bar-aha! there it is! she can alllmoooosttt get it- all the while White Woman is ferociously checking her phone...Precious time ticking. And the items in my cart are waiting. And the woman behind me is waiting. Until the last gasp and I meep out in a mouse voice "Excuse me but....can you hand me the bar?" (I'D LIKE TO START UNLOADING MY CART NOW THANKYOUVERYMUCH says the Grizzly Bear inside)....and she frowns, sighs and hands you the bar as if this is the LARGEST inconvenience known to woman.
First world problems for sure, but something I have not seen any place else except here.