cell phone drive-thru

Generally, I believe, people consider me a reasonable, caring, nice person. I will hold the door for you even if it means you will get in line in front of me. If I’m checking out at the grocery I’ll not vie for a spot ahead of you in line but will graciously let you ahead of me. If you need directions I’ll give them to you no matter how long it takes and even if I have to translate “north” or “east” into “straight ahead” and “right” for you. I’m generally patient, understanding, and pretty much a what you see is what you get type person and when folks look at me they generally see a placid, old, cow. I admit that I have about as much animosity in me as that grazing cow.

So, why then did I get in such a rage when the car pulling into the Kroger pharmacy pickup lane blocked both entrances?  It just set off my “this is outrageous” meter and made it clang at the highest level of disturbance.  There was a car length between him and the car in front of him. Why didn’t he just pull up and others could have gotten to the second lane? Even when the car in front of him pulled up he kept sitting there. I finally found a close parking space and parked, took my granny cane with the four feet on it and hobbled into Kroger. There my cane and I opted for an electric cart and drove into the pharmacy and picked up prescriptions that were waiting. Carted back to the door, got my cane and purse and prescriptions and hobbled back to the car.

Do you know why the man was so rude?  Well, as I passed his vehicle on my way into the store I could see the cell phone he was doing something on that made him oblivious to what was going on around him.  But the woman in the car with him was eating popcorn and looking around so why didn’t she tell him he had traffic blocked?

What I wanted to do was grab his cell phone, slap him on the side of his head and tell him, “Pay attention!”

What I decided to do was ignore him and come home and meditate. That’s the same thing as ignoring people except you do It while sitting cross-legged on the floor. Well, my knees won’t let me sit cross-legged and if I got down on the floor Bob would have to rent a crane to get me up. but I can do some pretty good meditating at the sewing machine. 

Why, if I truly am a nice person, do I get in such a rage at a nincompoop with no upbringing?  I just want to tell him, “Buddy, you suck!”

Pray for me, I think I may need counseling.

cell phone

 

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