The Weirdo Vortex

Val has had her struggles at the Gas Station Chicken Store. You might recall that most recent weirdo who BACKED INTO T-HOE while Val was parked and minding her own beeswax, writing on the back of her scratchers. Then there was the condescending dude who told Val ("Sweetie" to him!) she's not supposed to park in the handicap spot, because it's like the on-deck circle for vehicles waiting for the air hose space.

There must be some supernatural force that draws weirdos to Val when she parks in that space. Like Monday...

As usual, the handicap space was empty. As I have declared before, I have no handicap placard. So I have no legal right to park there. If I see a car with a handicap plate drive in while I'm gathering my stuff, I move to a different spot. When that handicap space IS occupied, 19 times out of 20, the car there has no special plate or placard. So I'm not the only wrong-doer at the Gas Station Chicken Store. At least I have the benefit (!) of walking with a limp. That's more than the two college-age gals filling their cooler with ice could display as a need for using that space!

Anyhoo.... we're not here to discuss Val's wrong-doing today. We're here to discuss her latest weirdo encounter in the Gas Station Chicken Store's Weirdo Vortex.

There were only a couple cars on the lot when I pulled in. Both at the gas pumps. I parked T-Hoe nose-down this time, having arrived at the back entrance, via the alley that comes across the moat from Hick's pharmacy and the side street by the Backroad's Casey's. I popped in and did my scratcher business unimpeded. Was back out in three minutes. Two for the transaction, and one for the time it took to hobble in. I passed a mid-50s lady in jeans, with a gray Beatles haircut, on my way back to T-Hoe. As I raised my eyes from penny-looking, I saw the vehicle she came from.

A PICKUP TRUCK CLOSE-PARKED BY T-HOE!

Let the record show that this is NOT a parking space! It's the driving area between that handicap space and the diesel pumps where dump trucks and fire engines regularly gas up. The air hose space behind T-Hoe was empty. The lane where cars park at the gas pumps right in front of the door was empty. Yet this WEIRDO chose to park side-swiping distance from 

T-Hoe. 

Val was NOT pleased! I opened T-Hoe's door to see if I could get in. YES! Fully open, T-Hoe's giant door came within millimeters of that pickup, yet didn't make contact. Score one for Val!

Anyhoo... I felt Weirdo's eyes on me after I got in. I was not about to be intimidated, nor risk any interaction. I wrote on the back of my scratchers as usual. Then checked my phone. Took a photo while I had it out. This is NOT NORMAL! Who parks like that? A WEIRDO, that's who!

At first I thought maybe they needed that handicap space, and I was in the way. So I felt a little bad. Until I saw Beatle-Hair come back out carrying two 44 oz fountain drinks. She was walking at a brisk pace, with no limp. I didn't see any evidence of infirmity affecting bone, muscle, tendon, ligament, heart, or lungs. 

I drove away at the same time they did, in the opposite direction. Met them on the road by the light as I was pulling out and they were getting in the left-turn lane. No handicap placard or plates.

I have no idea why a person would park like that, so close and intimidating. Then again, I don't presume to know what goes on in a weirdo's mind...