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- Aug 21, 2007
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Awhile back on here I posted a short essay entitled "How to be an Awful Snowbird", I think it was titled "RustedFox Rants: Snowbirds".
In that essay, I railed against snowbirds who park in the fire lane because "they only need a few things and will be right out."
I hope that every senior who does this has their car hit by a truck, or something else of considerable size (big rock, bulldozer, etc.)
I went to my local grocery store this AM, and Barbara was there, sitting in her giant SUV, in the fire lane, probably calculating her next insulin dose, breathing sugar... somehow.
I walked up to her window. It wasn't hard; seeing as how she parked as close to the front door as she could.
"Excuse me, ma'am?"
Barbara rolled down her window a few inches.
"Whaddayouwant?" - she cackled at me.
I was nice. "Just looking out for you; my cousin got a $250 dollar ticket last week for doing what you're doing; parking in the fire lane."
That was a lie. I don't have a cousin; but I could have been mean about it and said: "Hey; fat old b!tch, you're in the fire lane, now move your ass."
"Well, I have money, so they can ticket me."
Seriously. That was her response.
Zero acknowledgment of "What I'm doing is wrong."
She might as well have said: "Rules are for poor people."
I actually said (yep, I said it again):
Wow.
OK, BOOMER!
You are what is wrong with America.
And the veteran in aisle 4 having chest pain hates you, too.
I walked inside and went on with my shopping. My eyes caught a split-second of a Yankees decal on the back of the other side of her vehicle.
Noo Yawwwwwk.
In that essay, I railed against snowbirds who park in the fire lane because "they only need a few things and will be right out."
I hope that every senior who does this has their car hit by a truck, or something else of considerable size (big rock, bulldozer, etc.)
I went to my local grocery store this AM, and Barbara was there, sitting in her giant SUV, in the fire lane, probably calculating her next insulin dose, breathing sugar... somehow.
I walked up to her window. It wasn't hard; seeing as how she parked as close to the front door as she could.
"Excuse me, ma'am?"
Barbara rolled down her window a few inches.
"Whaddayouwant?" - she cackled at me.
I was nice. "Just looking out for you; my cousin got a $250 dollar ticket last week for doing what you're doing; parking in the fire lane."
That was a lie. I don't have a cousin; but I could have been mean about it and said: "Hey; fat old b!tch, you're in the fire lane, now move your ass."
"Well, I have money, so they can ticket me."
Seriously. That was her response.
Zero acknowledgment of "What I'm doing is wrong."
She might as well have said: "Rules are for poor people."
I actually said (yep, I said it again):
Wow.
OK, BOOMER!
You are what is wrong with America.
And the veteran in aisle 4 having chest pain hates you, too.
I walked inside and went on with my shopping. My eyes caught a split-second of a Yankees decal on the back of the other side of her vehicle.
Noo Yawwwwwk.