The elderly need to crap or get off the crapper!
There. I said it. Does that make me an a$$hole? I'm pretty sure it does. But you know how we gambling addicts are full of rage. Don't you? Apparently a commenter on my other blog presumes to know that. Though I think it's more a case of Which Came First, the Gambler or the Rage? Anyhoo...his exact quote was: "You inveterate gamblers seem to have short tempers." That kind of pissed me off. In fact, that used to be my motto here at the Manion. "People Piss Me Off!" Perhaps you weren't reading way back then. I don't think this guy was, either. How dare he say that gamblers have short tempers!
I guess I do.
There I was, standing in line at the counter of the gas station chicken store, talking to my favorite clerk, as the customer he had just finished with toddled toward the door. He was only two steps away. It's a small store. There was a lady behind me buying chicken, so I was not holding up the line as I chatted while paying for my 44 oz Diet Coke and two scratch-off tickets.
As the chicken gal moved over to pay, I said goodbye and started out the door. Or so I thought. However...that old geezer was standing right in front of it! He was kind of short and thin, wearing a tweed-looking coat and a newsboy cap. He was kind of like Andy Capp personified.
I stood behind him, thinking he was about ready to walk out the door. It's a single glass door. No room to go around. The counter abuts the wall on the left, and the restrooms are within arm's reach on the right. Andy stood there, SCRATCHING! He had a $5 ticket, the game of which escapes me. But by having a $5 ticket, which I could tell by the size of that piece of shiny cardboard he was holding in his hands, he had, at minimum, five numbers to scratch off, and then 15 other numbers to try and match them. Which he was doing while blocking the door.
I did not try to get around him, or clear my throat, or say "Excuse me," or shove him forward and tromp right over the top of him. Nope. Mrs. Hillbilly Mom respects her elders. I could wait until he was ready to move. Kind of like waiting behind the wheel of T-Hoe for Farmer H's turkey to wander across the driveway.
I bear Andy Capp no ill will. But he really needs to learn to crap or get off the crapper! Other people need to use the crapper, too!
I'm pretty sure that makes me an a$$hole.