My long suffering wife says I am an unpleasant person

This is usually after some incident involving someone else driving like an orangutan.

I will let you be the judge and jury here.

As you may know we spend weekends haunting flea markets, estate sales and yard sales. Its cheap entertainment and always good for a few laughs.

The other Saturday a sale of some sort was being held at a Back Mountain church. We were drawn to it like a moth to a porch light.

Now I hate being tailgated. It particularly infuriates me if the tailgater is in a large SUV and has a cell phone held to the side of their brainless head.

Some big black leviathan did just that as we entered the parking area of the church. I am already predisposed to not like this person. As we approached the parking lot some hapless guy with a huge trailer behind his pickup truck was struggling to get out. I stopped and waved him on being the courteous gentleman driver I always am.

No sooner than I raised my hand, the in-a-hurry SUV driving cell talking soccer Mom leaned on her horn.

I was incensed. My wife says “ Just go.”

I wondered out loud what the hurry was. Well I didn’t use those words exactly. So I drove ahead and parked and watched as SUV lady docked her cruise boat sized craft next to the church, got out (cell phone still glued to her ear) and ran into the back door of the church.

She reappeared almost instantly (cell phone still pasted to her head) with several helpers and proceed to unload the SUV.

What was she in such a hurry to get inside the church?

She was delivering trays full of franks and sauerkraut and halushki for the food sale.

I made a noise about this as we walked by. Something about how happy I was that the chow got to the church in a timely manner.

This is the point where my wife, who should know, labeled me as an unpleasant person.

I don’t consider myself an unpleasant person.

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About James Rising

A recovering radio addict wrestles with the written word.
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