Well I did it, I finally have a “blog.” I am a little nervous. Goodness knows I offend enough people – even the ones I love with my sharp tongue. Who knows how many foot-in-mouth opportunities I will have with this handy keyboard?
So, there was my sell out disclaimer. A way to say, “Take me as I am, I don’t care what you think but at the same time I hope not to offend.” Or do I?
Blog, blog, blog. hate that word. Hey. There’s an idea…I could blog about words that I never want to hear again. That is so Ang. Speaking of never wanting to do things again…The other day I had an encounter that made me say, “I wish I had a blog so I could tell everyone this ridiculous story.” I am sure I will have some profound things to write about in the near future but I can NOT resist documenting this story.
I can count the times I have crossed the threshold of hell – oops, I mean Wal Mart. Seven. Once with Uncle Ron to by Christmas presents one late December night, once to buy gold craft paint for a job, once to buy pottery with Jennifer, once to find cheap speakers for Joel, once to buy hanging baskets with Sarah once with Gram and Grandpa to buy a DVD player and the other day to find a particular fabric. Every time I go into that obscenity of a store I SWEAR I will never go in there again. Well this time I mean it!
Upon leaving the store a darling, teeny, tiny little Cub Scout with all the courage he could muster asked, “Would you like to buy some Cub Scout popcorn?” Like a big jerk I had to tell him that I didn’t have enough money. Well maybe I wasn’t such a jerk because the next guy he asked made me look like a Saint. This guy, all 300 pounds of him and his equally healthy wife were stopped by Little Teeny Tiny asking, “Would you like to buy some Cub Scout popcorn?”
Let me pause for a moment and explain the naive little world I live in where I think people like this guy only exist on the Jerry Springer Show.
He barks back, “NOT UNTIL THE CUB SCOUTS EXCEPT EVERY RELIGION IN AMERICA!” He practically mowed Little Teeny Tiny over, handkercheif, popcorn tin and all! Well, I was stunned and muttered to the nearby Cub Scout mother, “Oh, That’s nice.” She was stunned. We could not figure it out. What religion don’t they “accept.”? The man was clearly too fat to be gay. He was way too trailer trash to be Muslim. It was a bizarre moment.
Joel had been parked out in the parking lot with Aidan and I spotted them so I started out towards the truck. On my way I notice the big jerk and his wife loading their car and smart ass that I am, I could not resist stopping to inform him that there were no religions that the Cub Scouts did not “accept.” I was just going to lend him this information and let him know that he should go back and apologize to the little boy.
So, I stop at his car, “Ya know, there aren’t any religions that the Cub Scouts don’t accept.” I say with my hand on my hip ready to dish my next bit of advice. Well, I couldn’t even get the statement out cause fatty went BOL-IS-TIC!!! He began to SCREAM at me that they did not accept HIS religion. So, I merely asked, “What religion is that?” And he says, “Wicca.” I calmly stated, “Wicca is not a religion it’s a CULT.” With a sharp emphasis on the “T” of cult.
He flipped out. It was hilarious! “I am a high priest in Wicca and you lady are a bigot! You’re a bigot, you’re a bigot!” Louder and louder. Then he asks (screams) “What religion are you?”
I again simply stated that I was a Christian. Well as all Christians know, once you open your big yapper and say that you are a follower of Christ (which of course, is always a good thing to do) you have to tow that line. I couldn’t yell back, use his weight as ammo in my insults, I couldn’t state the obvious, that he was a miserable bastard and obviously his ‘religion’ was really working out for him. It was crazy. Louder and louder and more obscene became his comments. According to him I was a b–ch and I think everyone in the world is wrong but me.
Then, get this, he started coming towards me! (In the meantime his lovely wife is yelling at me half in and half out of the passenger seat.) “So, now you are going to come towards me?” I asked? Remaining calm.
It was unreal.
Why would a 300 pound man take steps towards a women in a Wal Mart parking lot I asked him? He flipped out further and screamed that now I was going to accuse him of assault. Unreal. Then with all the eloquence he could muster he spreads his legs to steady his stance, sticks out his arm and gives me the FINGER and screams that I can go burn in my own hell. Wow.
At that point I had begun to walk away. This guy was off his rocker and there was no Socratic dialogue that was going to take place here. The nasty part of me wanted to respond by telling him that he could rot in the dirt that he worships but I kept my mouth shut made my way to the truck and recoutned the story for Joel. Just unreal. Not as funny in print as telling it is but I thought it would be a funny way to start off my blog.
In the future I might add my past Christmas letters and Paris Journals to my Archives. I will use this sight to post photos and videos of my beautiful Aidan too – I pity the poor fool who ever yells at my Teeny Tiny Cub Scout someday!
Oh – last but not least. Here is a word I heard today along with everything else that happened that I never want to hear again, “Afrocentric.” I mean come on. Is THAT really necessary? If I were to be a big fan of Barry Manilow would I be a “Whitee-centric”?
Labels, Labels, Labels. Leave ’em at the Cross.