Dinner for One: Episode 4 – Revenge of the Mise in Place

Today I watched a slow motion car crash.

This was a first for in my driving career. I’ve driven in and through a lot of states and each has it own…uh, personality. 
On the Edens Expressway going into Chicago I saw a couple of firsts. The first time I was ever passed on the right…at 80 mph…by a guy driving on the shoulder. I also witnessed a car (presumably being driven) backing down an off ramp.
In New Jersey I witnessed a pissed off driver actually drive his truck on and OVER the front of a minivan because…ready? She took “his” parking spot.

The first thing I noticed when we got here, was the Massachusetts weave. Mass drivers seem to unable (or unwilling) to drive in a straight line, they cover the whole lane from line to line, back and forth.  In other areas people – I hesitate to call them drivers – need a very important text or a half a bottle of Irish whiskey to drive this erratically. This, of course leads to the Massachusetts Bumper Tattoo, acquired when one weaver is out of sync with the car in the next lane. I assume that this NASCAR/ bumper car style of driving explains the fact that there are more burned out  headlights in this state that the entire rest of the country. Seriously.

Which brings us to the parking lot of the market today. The parking lot is just a microcosm of the roads around here only at slower speeds. I pulled into an aisle and noticed two vehicles backing out.

Vehicle #1 – A Soccer Mom in a Kardashiwagon (a huge black SUV) texting the nanny.

Vehicle #2 – A balding, 30 something, Gamer driving an old, dirty Taurus inherited from Grandma, trying to light a smoke.

What is the horn etiquette for warning two unobservant clowns that are about to bash into each other? I had plenty of time to ponder that question as the two combatants approached each other at 2 mph.

A quick beep would be more like “Hey pretty girl in the parking lot – look at me, I’m the guy older than your Dad who still sees a college senior in the mirror every morning”. Quick repeated honks could be interpreted as a car alarm going off. So I opted for a long blast, leaning on the Xterra steering wheel.

Unfortunately neither of these two Massapatopians heeded my warning and quickly came to a glass crunching, insurance doubling stop. The body language was perfect. The Mommy alighted from her tank knowing full well that the husband’s company policy would cover it and he’d better not give her any grief unless he wants her headaches to come back.

The Gamer? Two words. No insurance.

I parked two rows over. I wandered around the aisles gathering provisions for Amy’s return, marveling at the ridiculousness of it. As I was heading out I heard two box girls talking…

“Some old guy was honking at me in the parking lot…”

“Eww, gross…”

So I went out to a bar to get a burger.


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