That's Me

That's Me

Tuesday, July 9, 2013

Grocery Store Hit & Run?

Between the man who wishes he was my Daddy & the singing man & other adventures I've written about from my shopping, Not Normal obviously finds me everywhere I go. 

Another installment of this is another trip to a grocery store. Not the same one with the man singing to his truck windshield. Apparently the odd people don't shop at just one store. It'd make it a lot easier on me if they all stuck to the same store, so I could avoid it. But noooo, they have to make me run into them everywhere. Like it's a game for them: how many of us can spot Eddi in a given week? 

This one was the guy who's car was apparently so special that he needed to take up 3 spaces. Right next to me. 

I got in my truck to find this...

As you can see, there is plenty of room to
park elsewhere.
"Hi, I'm Willie B. Entitled. I
parked sideways next to you
'cause I'm specialer than you."

Assuming he took up so many spaces...& I know the driver is a he because women are better parkers & not rude nor are they that no one could park next to him, wouldn't he prefer to just park far away from any other cars? I would think he'd get better results from parking in 1 (or 3) of those empty spaces up there, than right next to my big ass truck.

Seriously, did this guy think he's Simon Cowell, flying into the parking lot, jumping out of the car with gusto, chest hair blowing in the breeze, able to park wherever he wants because he's Simon Cowell?

Hey, Simon baby. 

Or was the point to get attention for his ugly special car? I got out to get a closer look at his special park job.

And take a picture.

You can't see the lines in this picture, but
he is actually taking up 3 spaces.
As I was taking the picture, I realized that some people were standing outside their vehicles watching me. Not wanting to look like I had been taking pictures of random cars in the parking lot...even though that's essentially what I was doing...albeit with a good reason...without looking back at the people watching me, I reached out to my taillight & ever so gently ran 1 finger over it with a sad look on my face. 

Then I took a picture of my taillight. 

I turned around as if to leave, but turned back as my heart was just pulled toward that poor taillight on my truck. I reached out to it, pulled my hand back, looked down, shook my head, then reached out & touched the taillight with just my fingertips, while slowly shaking my head. 

As I walked around to the front of my truck to get back in, I heard a man say, "She did the right thing to take pictures." Someone else said, "Poor girl. What a thing to walk out of the store to find." 

I'm glad I drove away before they could see my all its perfectly fine glory. I just wanted the pictures to show my husband how some idiot parked next to me as if he owned the parking lot & could do whatever he wanted. Instead I got sympathetic looks & a blog post. 

See, folks, I taught you something today: when doing something in public that makes you look questionable, make others believe you are a victim--without saying a word--& suddenly what you're doing is perfectly acceptable. 

If the guy had wanted to bring attention to his car, he got it. Just not how he was hoping. That'll teach him.

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