I usually reserve this blog for happy, upbeat posts, and for the most part this one will be, but sometimes you just have to complain. And dammit, this person makes me want to SCREAM. So, without using diagrams and maps and charts, I will try to explain this the best way I can.
I pick up hitchhikers out of a commuter lot in Virginia every morning. They wait in a line down an aisle where people park their cars, and two lanes of traffic flow into the line. There is only supposed to be one lane of traffic flowing into the line because VDOT has posted signs everywhere telling people where to stack their cars.
I follow the rules. GO ME! To be honest, I don't do this because I'm a stickler for rule-following; I do this because it is the path of least resistance as far as my morning commute is concerned. Basically, most people break the rules and end up having to wait in a longer line, the idiots. Over the years, drivers have worked out a system where we take turns entering the line where the people stand. We go every other car.
Sometimes, on Fridays or before holidays or when people are just generally having a bad day, they don't want to take turns and will cut off whoever is in their path. Such an incident occurred this morning when the man on the rule-breaking side chose to *try* to steal my turn. I held my ground, kept driving even though his Jeep was within inches of my pretty red baby, rolled down my window to call out "Pentagon" to a hitchhiker in line, then waited.
The man GOT OUT OF HIS CAR, approached my window, pointed his knobby old man finger at me and stared at me with his beady brown eyes and all-knowing look of disapproval, and said, "You're a cheater."
At this point, I was already shaking. Confrontation and I don't do well together, but I took a deep breath and said, "Can you read? Because I'm pretty sure all the signs posted around this lot indicate that you're a cheater."
Buzz-Cut, Mostly Bald but Gray pointed again and said, "No, you're a cheater. You're a little girl, and your'e a cheater."
Woohoo! He thinks I'm a little girl! So I waved him by and said, "If you would like to continue being an asshole for the rest of the day, go on in front of me. I don't mind."
This deflated him. He took a deep breath, let it go, got back in his Jeep. "You go on ahead."
That's right, bit--Oh, sorry. I didn't actually say that. But, boy, how I wanted to. The beautiful hitchhiker woman who'd stood nearby and watched this entire confrontation said, "Take a deep breath and count to ten. You're in the right here. He's not."
*Clap Clap Clap* I had an audience of approval.
Listen up, because I'm only going to say this once. I know what this man was thinking, and I know what he's probably still thinking, and what he'll probably take to his grave, so I have a message for people like him: Just because you're old and you have gray hair and a house and bills and a job and you're probably close to retirement DOES NOT MAKE YOU WISE, NOR SMART, NOR CORRECT IN EVERY SITUATION YOU ENCOUNTER WITH SOMEONE YOUNGER THAN YOU. It simply makes you old with gray hair and a house and bills and a job and close to retirement. You'd be better suited in life to remember that. You'd probably be better suited in life if you go to the eye doctor and request an exam, because clearly you have issues reading signs.
So, that is all. Just one more adventure in slugging to share with you.
P.S. (Oh, how I love these): Bloggers, Giselle at Xpresso Tours is looking for reviewers for CHARMING. She has a sign-up for it on her site. Check it out! You know you want to read CHARMING early!
P.P.S. CHARMING giveaway is already climbing up the Goodreads charts. Make sure you enter!
P.P.S.S. I love you.