Ahh...after our peaceful religious interlude yesterday, it's time for Mrs. Hillbilly Mom to show her true colors again.
The Pony and I went by the bank yesterday to cash Farmer H's lawnmowing check and pick up some weekly allowance money. After incurring no untoward incident in the drive-thru lane, I looped T-Hoe through the alley and back onto the parking lot to the cash machine set in the wall of the bank. Once my business was done, I again headed out the alley.
There's a stop sign on that alley. No cross street. Just a stop sign beside the end of a church. And a big sign ordering people to KEEP OFF CHURCH PARKING LOT. I don't begrudge them their territorialness. After all, they are the ones paying for the resurfacing and sealing. They have a right to a parking lot that looks like it was only used in a month of Sundays. That their steeple was struck by lighting a couple of years ago, causing blazes in their worship place, plays no small part in my decision to give that lot a wide berth. Besides, they have a camera mounted on the corner of the building.
I generally sit at that stop sign a few minutes to put my cash in order, and return my debit card to its slot in my checkbook. I caution The Pony to watch behind me, in case another vehicle comes up behind me while I'm stopped at the stop sign. Today, it did. A white truck, which had been waiting at the ATM. That thing stuck to me like a forgotten cherry Saf-T-Pop in a napping toddler's hair. Even when I pulled out on the road, it tried to climb into T-Hoe's hatch. Followed me all the way to the turn-in at the new frozen custard shop.
One scoop and one toddler cone later, shed of the tailgater, The Pony and I took the lake road to Save A Lot. I didn't really need groceries so much as I needed boxes for cleaning out Mom's house. What to my wondering eyes should appear but a white truck looming in the rearview mirror!
I can't guarantee it was the same white truck. But it had the same behavior. I turned left onto the street, then left onto the lot. That white truck gassed it an sped down the parking aisle in the wrong direction. I slowed to let a gentleman cross from Subway to his car. Then I drove four more spaces and turned T-Hoe's wheel to the right, to pull into a vacant parking space. There were a lot of open spaces. Okay. Three of them on my side were handicapped spaces. But mine was right next to one. Prime parking by the door.
But WAIT! That white truck zoomed in across from my spot, and PULLED THROUGH! I had already started my pull-in. I had to back up. The idiot inside made a little face. Like, "Sorry." But not really. I drove around that aisle and came up the other side, and pulled in next to where that B*TCH had pulled through. She hopped out of her truck and darted inside. Like I wouldn't see her.
Alas. Though I am older, with more insurance, I resisted the urge to go all Towanda on her vehicle.
Inside, she crossed my path at the frozen pizza cooler. I again resisted the urge to go all Towanda on her body with my cart. She pretended not to notice me.
B*TCH needs a-slappin'.
2 comments:
HM--You should have let The Pony loose on her. He doesn't care about people. He wouldn't worry how messed up she ended up.
Or does The Pony even care about you?
Sioux,
I am, perhaps, the only person The Pony would deign to help, now that his grandma is gone. However...I did not wish for The Pony to fight this battle for me. Let the record show that I fixed that B*tch with my teacher stinkeye, and did not look away as she tried to unobtrusively cut across in front of me to get to the frozen pizza.
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