It was a sunny, brisk Florida morning, and I felt the need to venture out to Target for deoderant and dog food. On the way there, I got stuck behind a blue hair going 15 miles below the speed limit (in the left lane). Driving next to me was a grey bush, also going 15 miles below the speed limit. I had to sit through one green arrow because the aforementioned blue hair didn't feel the need to follow the rest of the cards through the intersection in an expedient manner. So I had a whole set of lights to sit through to calm myself down and tell myself that it doesn't matter, I'm not in a hurry, the elderly are not out to get me. So I get to Target where I was promptly almost backed over by a white hair in a white Lincoln. I got into Target, and was greeted by a plethora of red cart weilding elderly, many of whom were blocking the aisles, and refused to move even when I waited patiently for them to pick out cans of cream of mushroom soup in what turned out to be a painfully slow process. One woman had the audacity to glare at me as I tried to look around, under, and behind her cart to see the items that she had blocked from view. Perhaps if she had parked her cart on the same side of the aisle that she was standing on, not only would my view have not been blocked, but she wouldn't have clogged up the aisle with her slow shuffling back and forth from the soup side of the aisle to the side where she left her cart. But I digress. I finally finished running the gauntlet of carts and their elderly counterparts and practically sprinted to the check-out. At which point I came upon another elderly woman who was doing her best to block the thruway by pushing everyone else's discarded carts into it. She picked up her bags, shoved her cart into the thruway, weaved through the cart maze she had created, and exited the store. I trailed behind her with my own purchases, wanting so badly to scold her for acting like a child, which, in my opinion, was exactly how she was behaving. God forbid anyone else might want to get out of the Target without running into a bunch of empty carts. Where the Target employees were whose job it might have been to clean up the aisles of discarded carts is beyond me...probably cleaning up other elderly messes elsewhere in the store. So I get to my car, but not without almost being run down by a tiny woman in a grand marquis, barely able to see over the steering wheel, handicap tag dangling from her rearview mirror. I felt safe in the confines of my Jeep, and took a short break to brace myself for the upcoming left turn out of the parking lot and into traffic. If that turn was to follow the way the trip had been going, odds are that I would be sitting there for a while, waiting for a member of AARP to find the balls to pull out. The wait in line was surprisngly short, and I was swiftly on my way home. However, as I was making a right on red while a bunch of lefties were making their turn, I was creeping forward only to slam on the brakes because an octogenarian in a knit cap and block-long Buick was making a U-turn. She slammed on her brakes, stopped in the middle of the intersection, and laid on her horn for no less than 5 seconds, glaring at me all the while. "I'll teach you a lesson, you young whipper-snapper" was all I saw in her expression. What she saw in mine was probably something along the lines of, "Get the F-- out of the road you old coot!" I threw my hands up, shouted an expletive, and pointed at her to get her giant Buick out of the intersection because I clearly was stopped, and there was no reason for her to be sitting there. That was it, the last straw. Beware, little knit-capped lady...you WILL end up in the hospital someday, and Lord help you if I happen to be your nurse. That is all. I will not be leaving the house again anytime soon.
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