Okay, here’s the deal. Maybe I didn’t pick the best day to go to Costco. Apparently it’s monsoon season here in New York City. I should have just gone at another time. But a girl has a schedule. Why put off until tomorrow, what you could die trying to get done today.
It was supposed to be a quick trip. (Stop laughing. It was.) That’s why I don’t go to Costco without a list. Get in, get out, go home and try and find a place to put all the crap I just bought.
But I wasn’t fast enough to beat the rain. The brief let-up that I’d enjoyed when I got to Costco was gone when I was leaving. It didn’t help that I couldn’t remember where I’d parked. (An embarrassing flaw in my escape plan.) I found my car in a few minutes but that was long enough for me, and my groceries, to get thoroughly soggified.
By the time I’d gotten everything into the car I had to sit for a minute and get myself together. I was cold and wet. I’d just spent money I didn’t have in a store I didn’t want to be in. I dislike food shopping and I don’t like Costco. It’s too big. The aisles aren’t labeled like the grocery store so you kinda just gotta know where things are. And there’s no right time to go. Costco is always crowded. It’s like the Zombie Apocalypse with people stumbling around looking for samples of free food. But since I do the shopping now, I have to admit Costco has some good deals and so, there I am: zombieing through a giant warehouse.
I was also sitting in my car trying to figure out where I went wrong in life. I was supposed to have People to shop for me. (And I don’t mean Fresh Direct.) My plan was to have People. I was working toward People. So, where the hell are my People?
In the spirit of my new Glass Half Full Lifestyle (I’m trying it out; I’m not sure if it’ll last) I resolved to do more comedy shows, sell more books and schedule more public speaking gigs. (Did you know I do that now? I’m pretty amazing. Hit me up.) I’m still on the grind and you watch; I’m gonna get me some People!
But apparently, this thaw out, dry off, impromptu parking lot life planning pep talk was taking way too long for the chick who was hawking my spot. She started blowing her horn. She roused me from my reverie and I was surprised because I don’t have a “Honk If You Like Critical Thinking” bumper sticker; which I really should in these last days of bigly American greatness.
And then I realized: “Oh. OH! Is this chick honking her horn trying to chase me out of my spot so that Her Royal Highness Queen Cersei Lannister (“Game of Thrones”) can have it? No ma’am. Not today. Shame! Shame! Call me Sheldon Cooper (“Big Bang Theory”) because now this is my spot. To do list be damned. I had nothing — nothing — better to do now than to throw my car into park, put my seat back and settle in. Mine was not the only space in town. There were plenty of spots on the perimeter she could have availed herself of.
Honk all you want. No spot for you, Boo. You just became a status update.
In time a parking space in back of and directly behind me opened up. As soon as the honking heifer pulled into it, I pulled out.
I’m a meditating humanist who strives daily for self-improvement and the betterment of our species. But I also come from a long line of grudge holders and Olympic-level passive aggressives. You wanna play? Suit up. I’ll bury you and not blink.
I’m not saying I’m right. I’m never proud of myself when I’ve allowed someone to push my buttons. But this chick found the biggest one and pressed it like she was trying to launch missiles at North Korea. I find I’ve lost my patience for rudeness. And entitled rudeness? Nah. The assholes of the world have gained way too much ground lately. In the words of Captain Jean Luc Picard (“Star Trek the Next Generation”) “The line must be drawn here. This far, no further.”
What have I learned? Clearly, I need to meditate before I go to Costco.