Seething Away Again in Self-ImportantVille

The Gas Station Chicken Store is infested with rumpusholes! Inside and out!

Monday, I pulled onto the lot from the back entrance, off the seldom-used street that runs behind the Gas Station Chicken Store and across the moat and Hick's pharmacy's parking lot, to connect to the Backroads Casey's. An SUV was parked in the space by the FREE AIR hose, but the handicap space was empty. These are the only two parking spaces on the side of the building. They are convenient for me, because they are on level ground, and I don't have to walk all the way across the parking lot while hindering traffic that's trying to leave.

Anyhoo... I turned onto the lot, and made a wide curve to park in the handicap space. A white truck hooked to a pop-up camper was under the roof, sitting at the gas pumps. He waited for me to finish my approach, as he should, since I was moving, and he was parked. He inched forward a foot or two, anticipating driving off the lot, I thought, once I was parked and out of the way. 

Imagine my surprise when I looked in T-Hoe's mirror, and saw the truck's nose near T-Hoe's bumper, with the driver motioning me to back up. That was nice. But I was fine. Didn't need to straighten out. I put T-Hoe in PARK, and slid out. I adjusted my right knee so it would cooperate, put my phone in my pocket, clicked the doors locked, and grasped my scratcher winner.

The dude was early-30s, blond crewcut, a sunburn almost turned to tan, muscular like a man who works outdoors. He had his right hand on the steering wheel, and his left elbow out the window, truck still running.

"Sweetie? Are you getting air, or going inside?"

"I'm going in the store. I don't know about that other car parked in front of me."

"Well. That's not what you're supposed to do..."

EXCUUUUUSE ME?

I was shocked. I did not ask for his opinion. Who in the Not-Heaven made HIM the Mayor, Council, Judge, Jury, Executioner, and Police Chief of GasStationChickenton??? There are no signs limiting parking in those two spaces. 

There is a handicap symbol painted on the pavement of the space I was in. I do not have a formal handicap placard or license plate, because I have not attempted to procure one. This is the only establishment where I use a handicap space. I'm there every day. Sometimes a car is already parked there. So I park by the moat. Or I wait. Or I come back. 9/10 people I see parked there do not have a handicap plate or placard. I might raise an eyebrow if they're young and appear able-bodied. But I'd never say anything to them. Maybe they pulled a groin muscle during exuberant sex the night before...

Anyhoo... Truck Guy wasn't objecting to me using the handicap space without proper legal indicators. He objected to me using that space because he wanted to park his truck and camper in both those spaces to get FREE AIR!

Oh, he was polite enough to me when he inquired as to my business at the Gas Station Chicken Store, although I am most certainly NOT his SWEETIE. He only got judgmental when he learned that I was leaving T-Hoe parked there to go inside.

Here's something Truck Guy needs to learn. Some days, you will get to a parking space first, and can use it for your immediate gratification. But some days, you will NOT be there first, and you will have to WAIT YOUR TURN. 

But wait! It doesn't end there. As I was waiting my turn inside at the counter, Truck Guy came in and stood off to the side, and interrupted the checker to ask if he could borrow the tire pressure gauge. She turned and handed it to him. My tongue was itching to tell him "THAT'S NOT WHAT YOU'RE SUPPOSED TO DO!" But I held it. 

While I was having my turn, I noticed a lady leave the store with two young boys about 4 years old, the size that could have made them twins. As far as I could tell, she hadn't bought anything. Nothing in hand. They had been down the aisle, and then used the bathroom. She went around the corner of the building towards T-Hoe and the air hose.

When I came out, the SUV was gone. Truck Guy had backed his truck down from the back entrance so that the pop-up camper was in the parking space next to the air hose, and his truck was in front of that space, beside the dumpster. He could easily have parked perpendicular to that space before the SUV left. The air hose is quite lengthy.

I resisted the urge to pull up beside him, with my left arm out the window, and say, 

"Hey, Sweetie. Don't forget to move your truck and camper out of the way when you take the tire pressure gauge back inside."