Violent Acres

I got into a fight over a parking space today.

It was the stupidest thing in the world and had I not been hung over from the formal Christmas dinner party thingy I went to last night, I probably wouldn’t have bothered. But this morning, I woke up and realized I was out of kitty litter. Considering that my cats are spoiled bastards who will claw shit up just to spite me, I figured it would be in everyone’s best interest if I bought more. So, I went to Walmart.

Had I been thinking clearly, I would have never visited a Walmart this close to Christmas. Common sense would tell me it would be easier to grind up rocks into sand with my bare hands in order to make kitty litter than it would be for me to brave the slew Christmas shoppers at Walmart. Yet, I proceeded with this crazy, crazy plan because I’m an idiot.

As luck would have it, I spotted someone attempting to pull out of parking place fairly close to the front of the building. He was having trouble getting out because the parking lot was so jam packed, so I decided to help him while simultaneously securing myself a spot. I stopped my car a couple of feet away and waved him out. I also flicked on my turn signal to let everyone know I planned to pull into the spot when he left. All was well.

All of the sudden, some chick with a car full of kids turned the corner and started coming towards us in the other lane. The way she suddenly slammed on her brakes, I could tell she intended to sneak into the spot I was waiting for. I wasn’t worried, though, considering that the way the cars were angled made it pretty much impossible for her to maneuver her vehicle into the spot before me, so I just shrugged.

Anyway, the guy pulled out. I pulled in. As I got out of my car to lock up, I noticed the woman had not driven away. Instead, she was frantically rolling down her window as if she wanted to speak to me. Curious, I waited patiently.

“NICE! REAL NICE! I WAS GOING TO PARK THERE!”

Seriously, that’s what she said. As if I owed her the spot or something. For a second, I just shook my head, amazed.

Then, I said in my calmest, most reasonable voice:

“Number one: The only reason I let the guy out was because I wanted this space. Number two: I had my turn signal on, indicating to everyone here that I intended to park here before you even turned the corner. And number three: It’s a fucking parking space, you white trash piece of shit!”

At first, the women merely sucked in her breathe as if I had slapped her. Then, she said, “I HAVE CHILDREN IN THE CAR! HOW DARE YOU USE THAT LANGUAGE WHEN I HAVE KIDS IN THE CAR!”

Some parents totally amaze me. Language? We’re still worried about language? My theory is it’s completely impossible to raise a child past the age of 3 without them ever hearing a swear word. Not only that, but swear words never killed anyone. So can we please stop fighting the language war? I mean, it’s clearly a losing battle, you goddamn motherfucking retarded shitheads.

Besides, her baby’s Daddy probably called her worse last night while he was slapping her around.

After my altercation with White Trash Mother Theresa outside, I had to wait in line for 20 minutes inside behind an old man who had pissed his pants. No joke, his pants were soaking wet clear down to his fucking knees. And before you ask, yes, I am absolutely sure it was piss and he didn’t just spill a can of soda in his lap or something. There was a very distinct smell permeating from this guy. My eyes were watering. I almost threw up.

Fuck Christmas. It brings out the worst in everyone.

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