Out running errands yesterday.
I picked up all the non-food stuff at Target, but I'll confess to having become a total foodie snob hipster douchebag when it comes to bacon, and so I went across the way to Whole Foods where I could get my swine wrapped in paper rather than vacuum-sealed in plastic.
Into the cart went bacon, a dozen eggs laid by chickens that had been allowed to run around and eat bugs, little wedges of Gouda and Manchego by way of treats, and a copy of National Geographic because apparently being in Whole Foods does that sort of thing to one. Before I got the urge to save any rain forests or mail a check to Al Gore, I pushed my five (Count 'em!) items to the 10-Items-Or-Less lane and prepared to leave.
My departure was delayed, however, because the full-sleeve-tatooed checkout hipster had to bag the entire shopping cart of the woman ahead of me in line, who either could not read or could not count, or perhaps both.
As she pushed her cart towards the exit, I drew a laugh from the cashier by muttering under my breath "It's okay, honey, that sign didn't mean you," while staring daggers at her back.
I completed my transaction ("Oh, wow, this issue is so cool," said the cashier, referring to the Nat Geo, "The article on redwoods..."
"No spoilers!" I yelped, warding him off with upraised hands) and wandered out to the car with my bag of yummy in my hand and a song in my heart.
Putting the Zed Drei in reverse, I started to back gingerly out of the parking space, in the manner typical of a little roadster with iffy rear visibility surrounded by SUVs and minivans, only to see the Mercedes ML in the spot directly behind me suddenly start up, shift into reverse, and head for my rear fender.
I tapped my horn to make them aware of my presence, and the Upscale Explorer shuddered to a startled halt. Since I was halfway out of my spot, I resumed backing, only to see the lights on the Benz come on again and it resume its implacable course, now towards my driver's side door. I tapped the horn again, yelling "I know those things come with rear-view mirrors!" Apparently Captain Solipsism didn't need mirrors, though; all you do is throw your vehicle into reverse, hit the gas, and trust the world will get out of your way...
At the exit to the parking lot, the ML320 pulled up next to me, and guess who was in the driver's seat, giving me a good finger-wagging with one hand while clutching her iPhone with the other? That's right, Little Miss Entitled Innumeracy from the 10-Items-Or-Less lane.
It must be nice to be the star of the movie; I can tell you it's no fun being one of the extras sent over from central casting to play "Other Shopper", though.