Hmm...you know how some people say that teachers' kids are the worst-behaved, and preachers' kids are Not-Heaven-raisers? And how some doctors advise you to lose weight and stop smoking, even as they are dusting cigarette ash off their ample stomachs? (Play along here! Imagine the days before smoking was banned from public places!)
Well...this promoter of hunch-heeding did not heed her hunches today!!!
And now it has come back to bite me in my ample buttocks. I had NO one-hundred-dollar winning scratch-off ticket today! In fact, I only had a single winner, for $5. Oh, well. Easy come, easy go! But I should have heeded my hunches. Trouble is...I'm never sure if Even Steven is evening out my recent winnings, or setting me up for the next Evening which will give me MORE winnings. It's like that blasted chicken and the egg! I don't know which comes first.
Anyhoo...I spoke one day too soon about not having anything to write about because the weirdos were shunning my magnet. They were out in force today, flocking, flocking, on my tail, in my face, relentless in their torment. Okay. Maybe it wasn't all directed personally at ME. But I took it that way. Because in MY world, EVERYTHING is all about ME! I know. You have trouble believing that, I'm sure.
Sweet Gummi Mary! The parking lot of Orb K was full, so I couldn't cash in one of yesterday's scratcher winners like I had planned, so I headed across the road to Save A Lot, but traffic at that junction was so snarled that I gave up and made a right turn and then doubled back. Of course Save A Lot's parking lot was also pretty full. I got a good space, but I figured that it was a little tight, so I backed out and then saw there was no better space. On the other side of the row were two empty spaces together, but one was marred by a car parked over the line. I took the full space, figuring that nobody could squeeze into that partial space.
You know what happens when Mrs. Hillbilly Mom figures, right? Even Steven laughs. Then throws her a whammy. When I came out of Save A Lot, after having to wait for five minutes because all four of the bagging racks were occupied, two by the same person, who had her mom bagging groceries at one while she ignored her little boy crawling across the counter with a sippy cup, putting his feet all over the bagging rack I could have taken bags from...I found what a belly laugh Even Steven was having at my expense.
A dark SUV, newer than T-Hoe, was parked up against the driver's side. That's right. I have a habit of folding in the mirrors when I park. And if I hadn't, that DSUV might have broken it off, it was so close. No way could I walk in between, much less open the door and get in. I was about to commence a Yosemite Sam fit, but then I saw that INSIDE that DSUV sat a man in the passenger seat, with a little girl standing around in the back seat. So I stowed away my groceries (including those little ice cream cups with the wooden spoons, on this 88-degree day), and climbed into T-Hoe's passenger seat to wait them out. Clearly, that passenger guy could not open up his door to get out and walk around and back up to give me access.
FINALLY, a lady came out with a single bag of groceries, and I was pretty stoked that after only 10 minutes of waiting, I could actually get in my car and drive away. I got out and stood by T-Hoe's passenger door with anticipation. But that darn driver must have been texting or just jacking around, because it took her another five minutes to actually back out. Then I had got behind her, stopped in the middle of the parking lot aisle, not going anywhere. Two other cars went around her, but the passage was tight, and I did not. I sat there to shame her if she looked in her rearview mirror. I swear she had her DSUV turned off. Three or four minutes later, she decided to drive again.
From there I went to Country Mart for some hoisin sauce and bananas. The sidewalk back to T-Hoe was blocked by one of those carts with a red toddler car built onto the front. So I had to walk through the parked cars to get to T-Hoe's back end. Something broken was right beside him, which I made sure to avoid while backing out. Don't want Farmer H having the wrong flat fixed again.
The gas station chicken clerk was all flustered, and asked me to wait, apologetically, until she got some paperwork taken care of. I didn't mind. She's always nice, and I told her it was CRAZY out there today, and she said, "TELL me about it!"
"Oh, well. It IS the first weekend of the month."
"Yeah. The crazies are out. That's what my dad always used to say. 'The crazies come out at the first of the month.'"
"Well, here it is, first of the month, and I'M OUT!"
A guy had wandered in and was standing by the counter. He said he was waiting on chicken, so the clerk hit the secret buzzer to alert the fryer. The guy said something about getting chicken and a tweaker.
"You know, people used to come in here and ask me if we had tweakers. And I'd say, 'No, ma'am. We don't sell drugged-up people here!' Then I realized they were talking about that ENERGY DRINK. Haha!"
So...I made it out of the gas station chicken store with my 44 oz Diet Coke, some losing scratchers, and, thankfully, no tweaker of any kind. But at least I had some blogging material to take with me.