June 22, 2009
Welp, it's been raining for one week straight, and according to the almighty internet, this weather's not planning to go anywhere for the next eight days.
The rain's fine. Honestly, it doesn't bother me much--hopefully it'll help my grass seed sprout. But the people? Ay yi yi, welcome to the world of cranky old New Englanders. They're elderly, they're salty, and when they weather fails to meet their specifications, they'll give you the finger in the grocery store just because they feel like it.
Earlier this morning, I stopped at our little, local bank. I was standing in a line of three, waiting to return a key (no seriously, the banks here loan out keys to their back doors for after hours use of the conference rooms), when a 80-something man hobbled in with his walker.
He cut straight to the front of the line, leaving a pregnant girl (me), a super old woman (my neighbor), and a middle-aged lady with a very antsy child in the dust of his orthopedic shoes. Again, no big deal. For all I know, this guy could have fought off Nazi forces on the beaches of Normandy, and if that's the case--and I just decided to assume that it was--he can cut me in line all day long.
And really, I would have sent him ahead of me anyway. Not only does it make me look like an exemplary citizen and score me a handful of heaven points, but that man probably would have limped out of there and taken a leak in my gas tank if I had the nerve to do my banking ahead of him.
So he pushed his way to the front of the line and slowly began his transaction. A minute later, I could hear the teller wrapping it up:
"Anything else I can do for you today, Mr. Smith," she asked? (I didn't catch his name)
"Well I hope you enjoy your day," she replied with a smile.
"A day like today," he demanded? "Kiss my ass, Marsha."
Marsha didn't flinch. He must be a regular customer. And as for me? It's two hours later and I'm still snickering about the incident in my office.
It's official, my day has been made!