Avert Your Gaze, and Keep On Walking

People are batcrap crazy these days! Val does not like to get involved. Tries to blend into the woodwork, or the asphalt. Will not respond unless directly addressed. And then minimally. I swear, Missouri is becoming the new Florida. Every day, when I read an outrageous headline on the UK Daily Mail (which is pretty much all of them), I think: "Please, PLEASE don't let it be in Missouri!"

Friday, I stopped by Save A Lot for some products I like and can't find satisfactory versions of elsewhere. Like fake Honey Nut Cheerios, and medium salsa. With it being a Friday, on the first of the month, the parking lot was pretty full. I had to bypass the row directly in front of the store, and loop around to the other side. There's only one long row of parking here, for Save A Lot, the Subway Sandwiches on one side, and the Dollar Store on the other side. There was ONE parking space near the door, which I started to take, but decided it was too tight for T-Hoe's door to fully open.

On the other side of the row, facing the store, I found a spot next to one where the metal cart corral was shoved over, taking up the front part of the space next to me. It was pretty clear that nobody would try to park there. In front of me was a red sedan, and beside it was a white pickup truck. I noticed, because they were in my path to the door. Val does not take extra steps lightly. I knew right away that I would be walking around the rear of T-Hoe, and then start up the other side towards the store. Two men in the white pickup truck had their doors open. I figured they were just getting some air, waiting for their womenfolk to come out of Save A Lot.

As I started walking up along T-Hoe's passenger side, I heard arguing! It was one of the men, with his door open next to the red sedan, and an old woman standing behind the red sedan. She looked like a slimmer Edith Bunker. The man looked like Yosemite Sam, but with the white hair and beard of the dad on Alaskan Bush People.

Woman: "Yes you did!"

Man: "No I didn't."

Woman: "I SAW you, sir!"

Man: "I did not. You're crazy!"

Woman: "I WATCHED you!"

Man: "Then PROVE it!"

Woman: "You hit my car, and I called the police!"

Man: "Call them then! I want your license plate!"

Woman: "The police are already on the way! Here's my plate: A Y 6 T R 9. HANDICAP!" 

[I made up those numbers, because I don't have a phonographic memory.]

 

I was commiserating with that woman. What rumpusholes! How dare they hit her car! And then she had one more thing to say as the police car pulled up:

 

"THIS ASSHOLE HIT MY CAR!"

 

Okay. Maybe I might want to hold up on my judgment for a bit!

A couple of people came out of Save A Lot. One was on the left side of me, on the other side of this argument, scurrying to her car. The other came out the door on my end, and cut eyes at me, raising eyebrows. I knew right away that she was telepathically twirling her crazy temple finger, the second her eyes locked on mine. I sent that message right back.

After wheeling my cart/walker around the store gathering my groceries, I got in line behind a woman checking out. She was talking to the cashier about the scenario unfolding in the parking lot. The police had left their cruiser. It looked like they were taking statements. She turned to me.

"There's the police! I wonder what's going on."

"When I walked by, she was accusing them of hitting her car."

"I don't see any marks on it. People are SO hateful these days!"

Several customers gathered by the window that spans the front of the store. You know, where they were not noticed by those having the tiff. By the time I bagged up my groceries on the long counter, the white truck had left, and the red sedan was gone. I think the police were taking a witness statement. I guess it would just be hearsay, since I didn't notice anyone lurking around right when the argument started. Unless they had been sitting in a car and saw the hitting or not-hitting of the sedan.

I walked back to T-Hoe, proud of my non-involvement. I'm going to order some extensions for the legs of my high-horse, and wax my nose until it shines, the better to look down upon the ruffians in parking lots who start fights over nothing that require the police.