QUE PASA?

Que pasa? 

Que pasa? I will tell you que fucking pasa. Standing, waiting to be served at the cheese counter with one woman in front of me, another woman arrives. An older woman but really, not that much older than me, so we are both 'old', and possibly invisible. I turn to her and ask 'should we take a number?' knowing that people here love to push in without any shame. She looks at me, sorry, recoils, as  xenophobes often do when they hear languages, 'their' language, being spoken with a foreign accent. She informs me there's no need as we both know she is behind me, I am in front of her so I get served first, solucionado, problem solved. She then walks away with an iron will and stands next to the first woman who finishes her shop and walks away and immediately asks for her order. What to do? I told her 'excuse me, I was first' and the bloody actress puts her hand to her mouth and comes out with 'oh, dear God, it's true, you were first!' Well, I hope dear God forgives me as I told her she is a phoney and her life is a lie but with some great adjectives placed in front. The moral of this story is, let it pass or tell them they are feckin' conts