Saturday, August 18, 2012

Witness for the Absolution

For a brief instant, I thought I might be on tonight's news. If I survived.

The Pony and I went on our weekly Walmart shopping spree this morning. Nothing of note happened inside the store. Unless, of course, somebody decided I was worthy of a guest appearance on People of Walmart. But I doubt it, because most of my fellow customers were old and dowdy, not young and smart-alecky. No, the real action was in the parking lot.

We had loaded our bounty into the back of the Tahoe, and The Pony was returning the cart. I climbed in and put the windows down. Then it happened. A horn tooted. Not so much tooted as bellowed like a foghorn. Again and again. Further up our parking row, a white car was backing out. A tiny red pickup truck was trying to drive past it without stopping. The trucker laid on the horn. The white car kept backing. Then it stopped. Pulled forward back into the space. The door opened.

I think my mouth was hanging open. I anticipated some foul language and possible violence. The truck stayed put. An elder gentleman with white hair climbed out of the car and started for the truck. I scanned both hands to make sure he didn't have a weapon. We were in the line of fire.

Elder Guy strode towards Trucker. I readied myself for flying F-bombs. Perhaps a flying tire iron. Fisticuffs. A duel. In the very least, a slap across the face with a pair of dress gloves.

But nothing happened!

Elder Guy went to the front bumper of the truck. "Did I do any damage?"

"I don't think so." Trucker climbed out and took a look. "No. It's good."

They both got back in their vehicles. Trucker drove up the parking aisle. Elder Guy backed out.

Don't that just beat all? A random act of civility! Cooler heads prevailed. Violence was not the answer. Lawsuits were not threatened. No harm, no foul.

This sudden turn of events does not bode well for my proposed handbasket factory.

7 comments:

  1. An act of reason was bound to break out at some point. Accept it and move on. By the way, what types of baskets do you make?

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  2. We were at Wal-mart when a guy walked up to another guy on the parking lot and cold cocked him, laid him out flat. No longer do I frequent that place after dark.

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  3. What was wrong with those two guys? What kind of mental illness drove them to that behavior? Or what kind of hallucinogenic drugs were they on? Don't they know that some of us hang around the Walmart lot (and the Kmart lot--which in our part of town, is even crazier), just for the entertainment value?

    Get with the program, guys.

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  4. Mrs.
    It was shocking, I tell you!

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    Stephen,
    Thank you for asking about my handbaskets. Special orders are available. You can get one that dispenses ice water. I hear that people are clamoring for it at the eventual destination.

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    Linda,
    Why is that? Because you can't see the violence as easily as you can in the daytime?

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    Sioux,
    Maybe you'll see Crazy Joe Davola. Wear your helmet. I hear he has a mean kick.

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    Tammy,
    Another wonder of the Heartland.

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    Kathy,
    Maybe you could have seen it. Unless you were busy taking pictures inside.

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