It has been brought to my attention that I have a very neglected blog. It's true, I'm afraid. And I will get back to this soon, but for this very instant, I'm totally using it for therapy. See, the gym is already closed, and if I go outside to try to burn off this energy, I will be eaten alive by the mosquitoes. So, right now, my only outlet is this blog.
Mama Bear is done, done, done shopping on the east side of this city. Tonight I took the kids out to dinner, and to run two simple errands. Dinner was o.k., except we found out our favorite manager at McAlister's has been moved to a different location. That explains the subpar service we've been getting. We'll have to try to hunt her down and get things back to normal.
However, that was NOT the excitement of the evening. Off to Office Max, where no kidding, there were hookers getting business cards or having some posters printed or laminated or something. Hookers. Honest to goodness. That's the only reasonable explination as to their attire and their demeanor and the whole "vibe". And in all honesty, I actually found it rather amusing. The kids didn't seem to notice, they weren't hurting anyone, and you know, a girl has to make a living. As long as it's not my girl. And if my boys ever require their services, that will be the last thing they ever do with their wee willies. (I digress).
Onto Target. You know, the Target where I was a witness to a woman getting hit in the parking lot just a few years ago. The place that has things in it that are REQUIRED to keep this house running. The place that I have chosen to patron simply because the people at our local Walmart are stark raving mad and the Meijer seems to want to give the local jobs to u-scans. Anyway, Target -- my home away from home. Thanks to my dear, darling daughter, we visited the restroom, where I'm sure a homeless woman was using the facility to wash for the day. O.k. Prayers sent for her and her circumstances.
Check out, go to the parking lot. This *ahem* girl stops her car to talk to a group of high school boys in that main aisle that everyone has to cross to get to the cars. Fine. I watch her, she waves me on. Kindness. Graci. No sooner than we step into the aisle and she punches the gas. Not inches forward, not mild pressure to the gas pedal. More like squeal the tires guns it. Thanks to the good Lord above for making the distance between her and us so great that we had time to move. Of course, then I moved back...right into her path. She has awoken the beast. You'd better believe that we are about to have words. She decides to swerve around me. Good one. If I hadn't had my kids there, we would have probably duked it out -- I was that mad (still am, thank you very much).
What is wrong with the people on this side of town?????? Could we possibly go more ghetto than where we are right now? It's not like the people around here are impoverished and haven't had an education. It's that they feel the need to act like there is some huge chip on their shoulder because they have to *work* for a living and the rest of us are just bothering them by being on their planet. Well, guess what. I'm done.
For my money, I will put extra gas in the car and drive north or south. The East Side can go to hell. It's nearly there, anyway.
