Saturday was fit for neither man nor that beast Mrs. HM. Rain sluiced from the sky, barely kept at bay by my red umbrella. I managed not to get soaked at Save A Lot, and Country Mart. I can push a cart with one hand while holding an umbrella.
The Gas Station Chicken Store was another matter. I've tried using my umbrella there before. It's fine on the walk in. On the walk back to T-Hoe, not so much. The walk is fine. But I can't unlock the door and open it while holding an umbrella in one hand, and a 44 oz Diet Coke in the other. The foam cup does not lend itself to being clutched against my ribs with a forearm. I can't set down the umbrella, because it will blow away, most likely over the edge of the moat between T-Hoe and Farmer H's pharmacy, CeilingReds.
I resigned myself to walking inside in the pouring rain. It's not so much that I mind getting wet, but that I don't like my lovely lady-mullet to get drenched so that I resemble a drowned rat. After passing under the waterfall flowing off the roof over the gas pumps, I made it inside relatively unsoaked.
A young teen was putting red tickets into the cardboard box for the weekly gas drawing. I navigated past her, down the center aisle, my usual route to the soda fountain. Teen's Mom had just turned away from paying for gas, stating that she was getting a soda. Fair enough. She was there ahead of me as I rounded the back end cap and stepped into the soda fountain aisle. I didn't mind to wait.
Teen's Mom was almost done. She was at the Pepsi fountain. As she applied her lid, I pulled my cup. We were not in each other's way. But THEN another daughter, Tween, entered from the front. Carrying a baby in a basket! Teen's Mom was not happy. Nor was Teen herself, who had come to join her mother.
Teen's Mom: "I don't think it's the kind of day to do this. You should not have got her out in the rain!"
Teen: "No. You shouldn't have!"
Tween: "I want a soda."
Teen's Mom: "No."
Tween: "Yes. I want a soda."
Teen's Mom: "I'll share mine."
Tween: "No. I'm getting one." She set the baby basket down on the floor of the aisle!
Teen: "Don't put her there! Pick her up! This lady needs through!"
Mrs. HM: "That's okay. I'll go around."
Teen's Mom: "What is it? Mr. Pibb?"
Yeah. I made a detour to get away from them. I guess the ruder you are these days, the more likely you are to get your way. At least there's slim hope for Teen.
4 comments:
Ask Hick to look around for one of those old fashioned milk bottle carriers, they come in two bottle or four bottles sizes and should easily hold a 44oz bubba cup so you can set it down while opening the car door. Your other option is to keep a shower cap handy in the car for those times you can't manage an umbrella and a bubba cup.
River,
If Farmer H found such an antique milk bottle carrier, he would not be giving it to me! As for the shower cap...I'm sure that would be a stunning accessory for my lovely lady-mullet.
Why would he not give it to you?? You have a need and if he ever finds one, surely he can find another for selling. What about putting the word around for old retired milk delivery men?
A shower cap can be beautiful, decorate it with flowers and fruit ala Carmen Miranda.
(*~*)
River,
Let's not forget, we're talking about Farmer H. He'd need to find three. One for him to keep, one to sell, and one for me. He's more likely to find me a shower cap.
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