RAMBLINGS OF AN OLD FART... or Is mental imbalance a handicap?
I apologize, several of these people watching stories are comedy yet included in exhibitionist and voyeur under my PEOPLE WATCHING title. Still, I was the voyeur people watching.
#1 Mentally handicapped
#2 Redneck Shoppers
Here are two completely different people watching short stories at our local Big Box store.
When you're old, retired, tired, and broke you have to find cheap entertainment to pass time. When my hips went bad and I spent more time sitting in parking lots this old hobby began to escalate.
I have two brand new titanium hips now, but still enjoy this pastime. It really ain't a new form of entertainment, it's been around as long as Adam began killing time watching Eve cavorting naked, stealing apples, and figs from the orchard while teasing lizards.
It's called people watching. In my case, mostly people of the opposite sex, for reasons I need not explain. Again, it was Adam who beat me to this form of fun. As humanoids evolved pictures on cave walls prove this pastime continued, as it does today. But sometimes evolution goes through slow periods, even reversing at times. Come with me for an afternoon as I wait for MsDollie to shop.
Yes, here in NW Florida, and other places we wander, we have evolved. As MsDollie shops in the Big Box and shopping centers I sit confortably in my big ole red Dodge multi-door pickup truck in a field of asphalt decorated with fancy painted lines of white and yeller. Like trees in a forest, sign posts and signs abound throughout the area informing us what we can and shouldn't do.
You figured I was going to write about cute little gals in hot pants and low cut blouses. This is a different story of different homosapians. Yes, some still walk hunched over, finger knuckles dragging the asphalt. Evolution is slow here in paradice.
Let's just start with yesterday. It doesn't matter when yesterday was from the time you read this. Most yesterdays were all the same. Don't tell, I cheat just a little. I use one of those blue handicap thingies that I hang from the inside rearview mirror. My surgeon got it for me. Lets me park closer to the entrance doors, even for those times I don't go inside. That's the cheatin part. At first I felt bad using a handicapped card and not actually waddling into the Box.
This is a good time to mention this other phenomenon. Kids, well at my age, those older teeny bopper boys and girls, and those lazy assed healthy lookin people in their 30's and 40's seem to look like kids. When I see them park in handicapped zones, jumping out of their cars, and often running into the stores I get pissed. So, it almost makes my sitting in a handicapped spot while MsDollie shops seem legal.
Which leads me to the next type person I am going to bitch about. Cause that's another thing us old farts do... bitch. I'll just pick one humanoid at random so as not to confuse you too much because I don't know if you are a college grad or a redneck.
It's been proven, some college graduates are actually as smart as rednecks. Don't get me wrong, after moving here to NW Florida, I are a redneck. Iffin ya don't join em they'll kill ya, or at least tease ya a lot. Don't laugh, this story is mostly true.
I dropped Dollie off at the main entrance to the Big Box and found a parking place right near an end row in front of the store. I believe this one was a non handicapped spot for a change, which I will take if possible. Still, gotta be an end row or next to those shopping cart storage racks because I am picky about dings and dents... which is another story.
Best I remember, I sat in the truck awhile listening to my favorite country music station and people watchin. Maybe even looked at a well endowed girl or three, because I do like hooters and pretty little poopers. This dude around 42 ½ years old pulled up right on top of those yeller and white lines with his bumper touchin the sign NO PARKING FIRE LANE, as close to the entrance doors as possible. It wasn't because the other 1852 parking spaces were all taken. I'd bet 501 were empty. I was pissed!
Then that fat assed bastard sort of slithered outta that big fancy pick up truck loaded with chrome and fancy paint and sort of waddled slowly right in front of traffic toward the Big Box entrance. Aw geez, I felt badly for what I'd just thought and was feelin sorry for the poor guy.
My favorite Country song was over and I too waddled into the Big Box. Remember, I recently had two new titanium hips and it takes awhile to get them working properly without hurtin too bad. Still feelin sorry for my feelings toward that poor disabled young man, I looked for my lovely wife. But, it was Mr Illegally parked fat ass I saw first.
There he was, down the snack isle. He had three two litre bottles of non diet sodee pop under one arm, a handfull of Hershey bars and some kinda chips in his hands. As I saw him slowly shuffling toward an electric handicapped shopping cart, I noticed the basket was already half full of other junk foods. Holly shit, I was pissed again...!
So let's review. This fat fart drives a large expensive truck, parks in NO PARKING ZONES, obviously is handicapped by the way he looks and walks, yet to keep fit he buys more crap to eat. Being the ignorant smart ass I am, I asked the guy why he parked in a NO PARKING ZONE. Smiling, he said because I can't walk far or very well.
I mentioned the fact he wasn't helping his health by eating 8004 calories of sugar based junk and walking only a short distance. I also reminded him that there are 50 special parking spaces well marked for handicapped people. I believe he mumbled something under his breath about some old nosy bastard tryin to cause trouble. But I may be wrong.