Oh, how I long for the days of a mere Weirdo Magnet. The weirdos are disconcerting, but they don't draw my ire like an entitled rumpushole. That's one magnet I would like to deactivate. It pulled in a new one on Sunday at 11:00 a.m.
I turned into the Backroads Casey's from the side street by Hick's pharmacy. T-Hoe rolled across the front of the store, headed for the lone handicap space at the far end. WHOA! A silver sedan pulled in from the main street, crossed in front of T-Hoe, and slid into my rightful handicap space. Without benefit of a handicap plate or placard. I'm sure that shocks you. Me, not so much.
I parked T-Hoe on the right side of that silver sedan. It's not an official parking space, but there's room for a couple cars before area where their dumpster sits.
A blond gal got out of the silver sedan's passenger seat. She sauntered inside. No limp or visible different-abledness. She was wearing homemade Daisy Dukes, cut unevenly, but at least barely covering her rumpus cheeks with frayed fringe.
It took me a couple minutes to hobble inside. There was one guy at the counter. The register right by the door was the only one open. I stood behind that guy, leaving room for people entering to walk between us. Here came Daisy carrying two pastries from the donut case.
SHE STEPPED IN FRONT OF ME TO WAIT!
What in the fresh Not-Heaven was this? I was clearly in line. I wasn't standing there to soak up the air conditioning. I wasn't fabricating a shopping list before moving down the aisles. I was THE NEXT CUSTOMER IN LINE!
I wish Genius had been there to not-pick-a-fight with her! An antisocial monster indeed! Maybe that's my newest magnet. An Antisocial Monster Magnet.
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