How Do I Loathe Thee? Let Me Count The Ways

A little while ago, I was leaving a local store when I noticed a woman pulling in. She planted her vehicle right in front of a “HANDICAPPED ONLY” sign affixed to the building. That happens to be one of my pet peeves, and I responded in a suitably passive-aggressive way as she climbed out.

“Pardon me, ma’am? You forgot to put up your handicapped placard.”

She had the bare minimum decency to feign ignorance. “Oh, I’m sorry! I didn’t see it!” And she hopped back in to move over a single parking space.

I was still annoyed with her, so I watched her as she did so and I loaded my purchases into Mongo, my SUV. I admit it — I was looking for more reasons to dislike her.

And oh, did she give me plenty.

I noticed as she entered the store that he had left her engine running. I was getting more and more irritated when I realized that she had a good reason for doing that.

She’d left a child strapped in the back seat.

I briefly thought about calling the police, or taking some pictures, or doing something to shame her. To my regret, I just cussed to myself and left.

But what the hell are people thinking? Yeah, this is West Nowhere, and the chances of something bad happening in the five minutes or so she’s in the store are virtually nil, but still…

Astroturf On Steroids
The Party of No Circa 2005